A Rogue's Fading Light
by DraconisMuse
Summary: Sequel to 'Unraveling'. Rogue is depressed and having flashbacks. What better time for her to be abducted and experimented on. Can she survive, or will she be broken beyond repair? Appearances by most of the major characters, as well as Gambit.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I absolutely do not own the X-Men.

A/N: Here's the sequel to 'Unraveling', as promised. I suggest reading that one first for this to make sense. The prologue is very short, as is the next chapter, so I'll post them both today. Warning: This story will contain implied past child abuse and a bit of torture. Now that we have that out of the way...On with the show!

* * *

"If you do anything to betray us, Mystique..."

"The same for you, Brax."

Silenced elapsed for a moment as mutant and human stared each other down.

"So it's agreed. We don't trust each other."

Mystique smiled darkly. "Not at all."

The man nodded before picking up a photo from the table between them. A rather unhappy looking teen stared back. Her two-toned hair made it easy to recognize her. "You came to us, Mystique. I assume you have a plan to capture the target."

"I do. That is if you can handle it."

The photo crumpled as he closed his hand into a fist. "We can handle anything."


	2. On the Horizon

Disclaimer: Still don't own it.

A/N: Like I said, this chapter is also pretty short. The chapters will start getting longer soon though. As always, thanks for reading! I hope you like what's to come.

* * *

"Excited yet, Stripes?"

Rogue shrugged and continued watching the game of mutant soccer from her vantage point under a tree. She wasn't entirely sure it could be considered soccer at all. It was a weird combination of soccer and basketball that she highly doubted even had concrete rules.

Logan leaned against the other side of the tree she was leaning against and watched as well. "I wouldn't recommend going back into the house anytime soon," he said after a few seconds of surprisingly comfortable silence.

"Why?"

"Kitty is decorating," he explained. " _Everything_."

Rogue looked over just in time to see a rather disturbed expression appear on his face, and she barely managed to fight back an amused smile when she spotted what was on the side of his arm. It was a sticker. One of the fancy silver ones meant to seal invitation envelopes. "Yeah, I can see that."

Logan instantly caught the hint of amusement in her voice and followed her gaze. With a growl he tore the sticker off his sleeve, wadded it up, and tossed it over his shoulder. "I'll ask again," he said, more gruffly now that he'd been annoyed. "Excited yet?"

"It's just a high school graduation. It's not like we're graduating college or something," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Uh huh."

"Besides..." She focused on the game again. "Somethin' will go wrong."

"You planning somethin' I should know about, Stripes?"

She continued to stare ahead, but wasn't really paying attention to what was going on with the game. "Let's face it, Logan. Has anything 'normal' happened around here? Ever? Look at Scott and Jean's graduation." Now that she'd said it aloud, she realized just how little she wanted to think about that. She shook her head and continued. "Something will go wrong."

"We'll see."

As if sensing Rogue's desire for the conversation to end, the back door of the mansion suddenly burst open, allowing a cloud of smoke to escape. That and the smell of burnt cookies.

"Kitty's cooking again, isn't she?"

"She's tryin'."

"I think I'll go back to the Brotherhood. It seems less dangerous."

Logan scoffed amusedly and pushed off the tree. "Want to hide in the garage? You can help me tune up my bike."

She pushed off the tree as well and started following him. "By 'help' do you mean handing you tools because you won't let me near your precious motorcycle?" It was more of a statement than a question, since she knew the answer.

"I let you drive it, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Once." Admittedly, that was more than anyone else got, but still.

"If you can get through graduation without someone brainwashing you into waking up an ancient Egyptian mutant, I'll consider making it twice."

Rogue rolled her eyes, but was actually reasonably happy with that deal. "Fine."


	3. Just Tired

Disclaimer: Nope, they're not mine.

A/N: Another short chapter, but it's a needed one.

* * *

"Can you believe it, Rogue!" Kitty exclaimed.

Not for the first time that morning, Rogue wondered why she'd thought walking to school with Kurt and Kitty was such a great idea. Kurt insisted it was good 'bonding time'. She on the other hand just felt a headache coming on.

"We don't graduate for another two weeks, Kitty," she pointed out.

"Have you sent out all your invitations, Kurt?" Kitty asked, ignoring Rogue's comment altogether.

"Ja. My parents will be here two days before," he answered happily.

No one had dared ask Rogue if she'd sent out any. Anyone who would possibly show up lived in the mansion, and obviously already knew about it. She'd slipped the empty envelopes and stickers into Kitty's stash, hoping she or Kurt would at least use some of the stickers to decorate Logan again. They'd claimed the first time had been an 'accident', but Rogue didn't believe it for a second.

As they walked, Kitty and Kurt's conversation faded away. A flash of a memory filled her mind's eye instead. A memory of a particularly sharp piece of glass slicing her arm, and a man yelling almost unintelligible curses at her. For a horrifying moment she was there all over again. She felt him grab her arm, drag her through the broken glass, and toss her into a closet. The closet door locked with a resound ' _clunk_ ' and she was left in the dark. Alone. Scared and hurt...

"Rogue?"

"Schwester? Are you ok?"

Rogue pinched the bridge of her nose as she was suddenly snapped out of the memory. The flashbacks were coming more regularly lately. Ever since her father had shown up at the Institute a few months previously, it was like something in her head was reaching deeper and deeper into her mind to pull out the memories she had actually forgotten about. Each time one surfaced it seemed more vivid than the last.

"I'm fine," she answered. It was automatic now. Answering honestly would just open herself up to more questions.

"Are you...sure you shouldn't stop by the med-lab after school?" Kitty asked hesitantly as they started walking again.

"I've spent enough time there for one lifetime," she replied dryly.

"What about the Professor?" Kurt asked. "He might be able to..."

"No," she stated firmly. There was enough going on in her head as it was. She didn't need someone else in there poking around. Especially someone she couldn't control.

"But like...what if..." Kitty trailed off, as if unsure what she'd been about to say was such a great idea.

Rogue looked over at her friend curiously. They were almost at the school, which meant if this was a topic she didn't want to deal with she could just use that as an excuse. "What if what?"

Kitty seemed to consider the invitation to continue before actually deciding it needed to be said. "What if these flashbacks you keep having are something to do with Mystique? I mean, the Professor never could find out why she tried so hard to get you back."

She'd considered that once, but had dismissed it. There was no organization about any of it. Just random memories coming to the surface. A few nightmares. Some mornings she barely felt like getting out of bed, and most nights she tossed and turned. Some days her limbs felt five times heavier than normal, and it was harder to focus during Danger Room sessions. But what did she expect? It was probably the stress of finals, graduation, and the lingering chaos from her father's surprise visit.

At this point she just didn't care. Over thinking made her angry, and ignoring the situation was impossible thanks to the flashbacks and nightmares. She could only take things one day at a time. Anything else would be too much.

"I'm just tired," she answered. "I'll be fine."

"Of course you will!" Kurt exclaimed, grinning broadly. "Because you have us!"

She wanted to smile, and almost did. Almost. But she just couldn't do it for some reason.

Kurt didn't seem to mind. He gave her a one-armed side hug as the bell rang, before he and Kitty hurried off to get to class. He did that these days. Sprang random hugs on her when she wasn't expecting it. It was as if he was convinced all her problems would disappear if she got enough hugs.

Unfortunately, things didn't seem to work that way.

* * *

Logan stepped into the mansion and paused a moment to take in the sight. He wasn't sure how, but somehow it was even...brighter than the day before. A large banner hung over the stairs, still rolled up so the words weren't visible. Brightly colored streamers were draped over it, as well as the cords holding it to the roof. There was confetti and glitter mixed together in clear vases on the tables, and tassels in the school colors hung from the stair railings.

Kitty had definitely gone overboard. The day of graduation the house would be a mess. With a shake of his head, Logan continued on through the house until he found Storm. "Where's Chuck?" he asked.

Ororo looked up from the piano. "I believe he went to speak with Magneto regarding the rumors about HYDRA's recent activities. Is there a problem?"

"Spotted a couple of out of place guys. Seemed like military."

Storm arched an eyebrow. "That's not necessarily..."

"Got a whiff of Mystique in the area too."

"I see." Ororo nodded, now fully understanding the implications.

If Mystique was in the area with some new friends, around the same time as rumors about HYDRA were circulating, it didn't add up to anything good. It was hard to believe even Mystique would cooperate with HYDRA though. It was hard to believe she would willingly do anything with a mainly human organization.

"Charles should return soon," Ororo commented.

Logan made a non-committal noise. "Maybe he'll have a clue about what's going on around here."


	4. The Target

Disclaimer: Do I really have to say it again?

A/N: And so it begins.

* * *

"What do you mean you were spotted?" Mystique fumed. She had morphed into an old, gray haired man in shabby clothes. Someone no one would immediately notice. It also helped that the alley was hidden from public view. "By who?"

She was beginning to truly loath Brax. The man was an idiot.

"A mutant," Brax answered. He didn't look or sound too happy with her reaction, but kept his composure all the same. "Wolverine."

"Wolverine." Of course, she mused angrily. Of all the X-Men, it had to be the one who could sniff out trouble blindfolded.

"Wouldn't mind capturing him either," Brax said, mostly to himself.

Mystique narrowed her eyes and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close to make sure he focused on what she was saying, and to remind him of just how formidable she could be. "We're not here for Wolverine. If you want him, you can get him on your own time. Right now there's only one mutant I want. And now, thanks to your ineptness, we'll have to rush the plan along."

Brax grabbed her hand and pried it off his collar. "Relax, Mystique. It's just one mutant. And he doesn't know what we have planned."

"No, but you can bet by now he's told Charles Xavier," she pointed out, a hint of annoyance and venom dripping from each word for good measure. "And it's only a matter of time before they're on our trail. We have to act. Now," she added firmly.

Brax smirked. "Already ahead of you, Mystique." He waved to one of the black-clad men standing nearby, and a second later a moving van backed up into the alley. It was rather small, nothing that looked intimidating or powerful.

"That's it? That's not what we discussed. This girl is a _mutant,"_ she stressed, in case the thick-headed man had forgotten. "Do you really think that is going to keep her in or the X-Men out?"

Brax chuckled a dry laugh before waving to one of his men again. "You stress too much."

The sliding van door was pushed up, revealing a pristine armored interior. The metal glinted in the sunlight as two men and a woman jumped out. All three were dressed in black long sleeves and pants, high collars, and masks over their heads. Inside the van a pair of handcuffs dangled from one side and a rope was piled in the corner. It wouldn't keep the X-Men out indefinitely, but it would keep Rogue in for a while.

"It'll do until we reach the rendezvous spot," Brax stated. "And no one will notice a moving van. It's subtle. Discreet."

Mystique nodded. It would do. "Are your men in position?"

"They've been in position since this morning. They're just waiting for the go ahead." He turned and began walking to the front of the van. "Are you ready?"

Mystique snarled at the man's back. She hated him a little more with each passing minute. She shape-shifted into a hawk and soared over his head, grabbing a clump of hair in her talons in passing. The rip of hair and resulting string of curses was more than satisfying. Just as she landed, she morphed back into a human form. This time it wasn't just a random homeless man she'd run into the day before though. It was someone much more specific to Rogue. Someone she now knew would give her adopted daughter a jolt, and would in turn distract her easily.

"I'm ready."

Brax nodded just as one of his men approached. "Sir, the target was just spotted. She appears to be leaving the school."

Mystique smiled deviously. It seemed her adopted daughter was leaving school early. She couldn't ask for a more perfect opportunity than this. There would be far less people around now. Fewer witnesses. And hopefully no X-Men. Without waiting for Brax's reaction she hurried around the corner. The school was just down the street. She'd be there in no time.

* * *

Rogue rubbed her forehead as she slowly walked down the front steps of the school. She'd barely gotten through her last class, and the thought of sitting through another one was a little sickening. Ever since her earlier flashback the voices in her head wouldn't shut-up. Her headache was quickly becoming a full blown migraine. It didn't help that people were just _too close_ today. If she could crawl into a deep dark hole in the middle of nowhere she'd gladly do it. Away from people, and noise, and _touching_.

With a sigh she headed away from the school. She felt a little bad about not telling Kitty or Kurt, but she was sure they'd figure it out eventually. She couldn't bring herself to care much more than that at the moment.

The hair on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end. Instincts told her that someone was nearby. Logan had always told her to listen to her gut, and at the moment her gut was saying something wasn't right. She stopped walking just as a moving van pulled up alongside the sidewalk up ahead of her. It was just a moving truck, she told herself. Just a new family to the area wanting to check out the public school.

But then, why didn't they pull up closer to the actual school, another little voice in her head asked.

She frowned thoughtfully, but nothing happened. No one even got out of the van. Maybe they were lost and looking at a map. She started to walk again, deciding to just get back to the Institute so she could shove her head under a pillow and pretend the world outside her pillow bubble didn't exit.

She'd taken no more than two steps when a man stepped out from behind a tree. Not just any man though. No, a man from her nightmares.

Her father.

She automatically took a step back. For a moment she could swear she smelled cigarette smoke and alcohol. Whether real or imagined, it hit her like a ton of bricks and made her stomach flip uneasily. "What do you want?" she managed to get out.

Her father smiled. It wasn't a smile she could remember seeing on his face before though. It was twisted and almost sadistically gleeful. Her skin prickled at the sight. "You, Rogue."

Before she could react, two pairs of hands grabbed her from behind. She instantly started fighting them off, but their grip was tight. She managed to elbow one in the stomach, causing him to double over and release her, and just about managed to wrench herself free from the second.

But then the van opened, and there were more of them. All fully covered, protecting their skin from hers. She escaped long enough to run a few feet, but before she knew it a familiar face was in front of hers. Her father grabbed her shoulders and laughed.

All she could see was his face, and all logical thought disappeared.

More hands grabbed her. She was surrounded, outnumbered, and no matter how many she punched or kicked they kept a tight hold on her. She never saw the needle, but she felt it pierce the skin of her arm and a second or two later she felt its effect.

Her muscles spasmed before relaxing to the point she no longer had control over them. Her legs gave out from under her as an all-consuming exhaustion took over. She only vaguely felt herself being lifted and tossed onto something hard, and by the time her hands were handcuffed inside the van she was unconscious.


	5. Lost

Disclaimer: Nope, the X-Men aren't mine.

A/N: Thanks for reading and for all the great reviews! We still have quite a ways to go. Fun fact: I was always pretty neutral on Lance. At least until I read some fantastic fics highlighting the teammates/friends/enemies conflict between him and Rogue. So the Lance in this fic is dedicated to all of you who managed to make me feel something for Lance.

* * *

Kitty was a little miffed. Rogue had ditched them. Which was totally _not_ cool. Arms crossed, she looked around the front of the school, hoping to see her friend somewhere. There was no Rogue to be seen though.

She spotted Kurt jogging over to her though. "Well?" she asked when he was in earshot.

"She didn't show up for third period," he answered. "She must have left early."

"Without, like, telling us?"

Kurt shrugged. "She must not have felt vell."

Kitty felt bad for a moment for being so annoyed. Rogue was having a tough time, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She barely slept lately, and usually only ate to keep people from asking too many questions. Plus after her little episode this morning...

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said, sagging slightly. Together she and Kurt started walking back to the Institute.

"Kitty..." Kurt began, a look of serious contemplation on his face. This was obviously something he'd been thinking about for a while. "Do you think ve should tell the Professor about how Rogue keeps...zoning out."

"He's had to have noticed by now. Right? I mean..." she hesitated a moment. "It's not like she's only had these memory things pop up around us. The other morning she stared at her spoon of cornflakes for like five minutes. Everyone in the kitchen noticed."

"Yeah. You're probably right. I'm just..."

"Lance?!" Kitty exclaimed, interrupting Kurt and causing him to stop abruptly next to her. She stared as Lance straightened from where he'd been leaning back against a tree. "What are you doing here?"

He bent down to pick up a backpack and started walking over. Kitty didn't notice Kurt's eyes widen when he saw the bag, but she did notice when he stepped forward and jabbed a finger in Lance's direction with a suspicious look.

"Vhat are you doing with Rogue's backpack?" he asked angrily.

"Found it," Lance answered. Surprisingly, there was no hint of defensiveness or irritation though. In fact he seemed oddly serious. "They tossed it in that bush before driving off."

"What?" Kitty asked. She and Kurt shared a look, silently communicating their confusion and growing concern. "When who drove off?"

"And vhy would they have Rogue's bag?"

"I guess because they wanted her, not her bag," Lance answered as if it were obvious. "And I don't know who they were. I was on the other side of the street," he explained, pointing to the opposite sidewalk. "I turned the corner in time to see a bunch of guys throwing Rogue into the back of a moving van. I only saw one who wasn't wearing a mask, and he jumped into the back with the others. Then they tossed her backpack into that bush over there and drove off."

Kitty's eyes widened. Someone had taken Rogue? Right outside their own school? Who would even be _capable_ of that?

"Vhy didn't you tell someone!" Kurt's anger was almost palpable.

"Yeah, because walking up to the X-Geek's mansion is totally a good idea," he replied sarcastically, and with just as much anger.

The Brotherhood and X-Men may be on better terms these days, but they still weren't exactly allies. Lance walking up to the mansion would probably give Scott a coronary all over again.

"You've been waiting here since then?" Kitty asked. She felt a swell of pride for a split-second. Lance really wasn't _all_ bad.

Lance nodded. After an awkward second of silence he tossed the backpack at Kurt. "You might want to go tell your X-Geek friends," he said before turning and walking off.

Kitty grabbed Kurt's arm, knowing he would port them to the mansion. "Thanks, Lance!" With that Kurt ported them away in a puff of smoke.

* * *

The first thing Rogue became aware of was the sound of something heavy hitting something hard. Like metal against metal. It took her groggy head a moment longer than it normally would to recognize it as chains rattling against metal.

Her eyelids were too heavy to force open though, and it felt like the world was spinning in circles while she was unable to move. It was an uneasy feeling that turned into nausea as soon as she felt herself being lifted up and half-dragged away. Her feet touched solid ground again, but she didn't have the energy to stand on her own. Something...two somethings...people maybe...on either side of her kept her standing up.

Her gut said to fight back, but she didn't even know what she'd be fighting back against. And at the moment she couldn't get her limbs to do anything anyway. She couldn't remember what had happened, why she was so drowsy, and had no idea where she was. She heard voices, but it took a minute for her to realize they weren't just in her head.

"What do you mean no!" It was a female voice. An angry female voice. Furious even. "Hand her over!"

"Not happening, Mystique."

Mystique? She knew that name. It instantly brought feelings of hate and resentment.

"We had a deal!"

"We _had_ a deal. We did most of the work here."

"I've been working on this for months!"

Rogue just wanted the noise to stop. And for someone to tell her what was going on. Being able to stand on her own wouldn't hurt either. She tried to shake her head to clear the fog, but it only resulted in her head hurting more.

"And yet you couldn't get your hands on her without us. Funny, isn't it?"

"She's my daughter!"

A mirthless laugh seemed to reverberate around the room. "Oh yeah. Can tell you care about her _so_ much. Your interest in her is the same as ours, so give it up, Mystique. We're taking her."

Rogue managed to pry her eyes open just long enough to see a furious man...her father, she realized with a surge of panic...being restrained by three people. As she was once again being dragged away, a _'crack_ ' echoed through the air. Her father cried out as a dart hit him in the shoulder, but as he fell to his knees, the gruff visage transformed into Mystique. The furious woman gave the people around her one last glare before collapsing.

"Tie her up!" the man shouted.

Whatever would happen next Rogue didn't know. A pair of arms wrapped around her torso from behind and soon she was laying on her stomach against something hard and cold. Her arms were wrenched behind her, and something equally cold latched around her wrists, but she was hardly aware of any of it.

Her head throbbed painfully and the nausea twisted her stomach. The noise around her soon faded as she once again lost consciousness.

* * *

Logan paced back and forth, unable to just stay still. If it wasn't for Chuck insisting he wait, he'd already be out the door tracking Rogue. Charles seemed to think they needed all the facts first though. For Logan, hearing the words 'someone took Rogue' was more than enough information.

"Lance told you this?" Summers asked incredulously. "Are you sure he wasn't lying?"

"Do you see Rogue anywhere?" Kitty asked, crossing her arms with a glare. "Besides, Lance wouldn't lie about this."

"Logan, can you detect anything from Rogue's backpack?" Ororo asked, walking over to hand him the bag.

She was the first to attempt approaching him since he started pacing restlessly. He took the bag and gave it a good whiff. "There was more than one of 'em," he said aloud. "And..." he narrowed his eyes, a scowl twisting his features. "Mystique."

"It would seem she has finally accomplished her goal of capturing Rogue," Storm stated tensely.

"Which can't be good," he added with a pointed look in Charles' direction.

"It is troubling to say the least," Charles commented, his thoughts seemed to be somewhere other than the room though. "I do not believe she would go through all this trouble just to...permanently injure Rogue, however. Whatever she has planned..."

"Doesn't matter a whole lot right now!" Logan said, his voice low and dangerous. "Whatever it is, it ain't good." He stalked towards the door. "And I'm not waiting around to find out what it is." The glare now permanently plastered on his face kept anyone from getting in his way. Before he reached the door, however, Charles' voice filled his head.

 _'Be careful, Logan. And keep us updated_.'

He didn't bother giving any sort of reply.


	6. In the Dark

Disclaimer: I'm not saying it.

A/N: I don't have anything to ramble about this time. So here we go...

* * *

Rogue groaned as she gradually began to wake up. Eventually she managed to pry her eyes open. Everything was a blur for a moment as she blinked slowly. Her surroundings came into focus far too soon.

She sat up quickly, with a speed only possible because of the rush of panic that shot through her. Her eyes widened as she looked around. It was a small room...no, a cell, because she was definitely a prisoner...with what looked like rough concrete walls. There was no window, and only one door that, while narrow, looked like it weighed a ton or two. The only thing that interrupted the vast concrete walls was a vent near the ceiling. Too high for her to reach. The room itself was probably about half the size of the one she shared with Kitty. There was no bed, chair, or any other kind of furniture. Just the scratchy gray blanket she found herself sitting on, chains hanging from the walls, a single dim light overhead, and a metal bucket in the corner. She didn't want to think about what that was meant for, considering there was no toilet in sight.

It was only then that, as her mind cleared a little more, Rogue realized her clothes were gone. In their place were a set of thin pants and shirt. Both pants and shirt were gray, almost the same shade as the blanket, and surprisingly the shirt was short-sleeved. Considering her mutation, she would have thought even the most inept kidnapper would at least dress her in something long-sleeved if they were going to go to all this trouble in the first place.

Then it all came flooding back.

Whoever had grabbed her...they'd been wearing long-sleeves, gloves, and masks. They'd been completely covered. They knew what her power was, and had taken measures to protect themselves. And then there had been...

Her father.

A shiver went down her spine as she remembered his eyes...his hot breath against her face as he held her in place...

But no, it wasn't actually her father this time, was it? It was only a vague, foggy memory, but she could swear she'd seen him change into Mystique. She'd definitely heard Mystique's voice. Which meant Mystique had finally gotten her way. Her adopted mother had finally managed to get to her. But for what?

She stood up and walked around the cell, looking for any way out that wasn't immediately visible. She tried the door, but unsurprisingly found that it was locked and wouldn't budge an inch. Another pass around the room, and she couldn't even find a crack in the walls or floor. Jumping up in an attempt to reach the vent only ended with her falling flat on her butt.

Rogue sighed and rubbed her arms. It felt strange not to have them covered. It had been years since she hadn't worn some form of sleeve. Even her pajamas went to at least her elbows. She looked down at her bare arms and hands. They were pale from lack of sun, the skin almost porcelain looking. With another aggravated sigh she crossed her arms and held them tightly against her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The X-Men would find her. They'd show up soon. Someone would realize she wasn't around and they would figure out that Mystique was involved. Just like when Gambit had taken her. They were her friends, her family, they would come after her.

Even to herself, the thoughts sounded a little desperate. As if she was trying to convince herself.

 _Bang_.

Rogue's eyes flew open and shot towards the door just as the room was suddenly drenched in darkness. What little light there had been was gone. Panic twisted her stomach and her breath hitched as she was mentally ripped from the room and shoved into a memory.

 _The walls were too close and it was too dark. She didn't like this kind of dark. She could feel a few coats hanging down around her and there was a box next to her, but she tried to focus on the small sliver of light coming from under the closet door. Reaching out with a trembling hand, she tried the handle, but the door wouldn't open._

 _She wanted out._

 _She wanted the darkness to go away._

 _She wanted...she wanted..._

 _"Daddy!" she screamed, her voice scratchy from crying earlier. That's why he'd thrown her in here. Her daddy didn't like it when she cried. " 'M sowy!"_

 _The door didn't open, and soon even the thin ray of light under the door went out._

"Looks like we might have scared the little mutant a bit," a voice sneered amusedly in front of her.

Rogue breathed heavily as the memory faded and she was roughly brought back into the present by a gloved hand holding her face tightly. She blinked a couple of times and felt her heart race a little faster. There was a face in front of her, covered in the black material mask like those who had abducted her had worn. The only facial feature she could actually see was a pair of brown eyes and chapped lips.

She instantly tore her face from his grasp and tried to scoot away, but her back was already against the wall and another of her captors was hunched down at her side. It was then she realized the light overhead was back on, brighter than before even, and that the door was open.

She looked between the man in front of her and the woman next to her, quickly debating her chances. In the end it didn't matter. She couldn't just do nothing. With a burst of adrenaline she shot towards the door. The two captors made no move to stop her or run after her.

A second later she realized why.

As soon as she made it out the door something pressed into her side and she fell to the ground as a bolt of electricity shot through her. "Argh!" she screamed through gritted teeth as the pain persisted. It was like fire beneath her skin that singed and pinched her nerves, causing even her muscles to spasm.

As the pain faded to an uncomfortable buzzing sensation she heard laughter. She was in _pain_. And they laughed.

She pushed herself up, intent on running again or at least fighting back, but a foot connected with her ribcage and knocked her right back down.

"Just stay down, mutant," one of them ordered.

Rogue pushed herself up again and glared at the first one she saw, regardless of if it had been him who had spoken or not. A hand suddenly enclosed each of her ankles and began dragging her backwards. With wide eyes she tried to grab onto something...anything...to keep from going back into the cell. She grabbed hold of the door in passing and held on with all her strength, pulling away even as they were dragging her back.

She was _not_ going back into that cell, where darkness was waiting.

She saw the long rod coming towards her this time, and tried to prepare, but as the end of the stick was slammed into her arm she couldn't stop the cry of pain that tore through her lips and put an end to her resistance. By the time the pain ebbed away again she was chained to the wall, both arms above her head, and the guards were retreating.

"Guess the mutant doesn't want any water," one of them said.

"Just leave a cup by the door."

Rogue watched as a small plastic cup of water was placed just inside the cell, next to the door. The room might be small, but she'd never be able to reach the water. Not with the shackles around her wrists. With a loud ' _clunk_ ' the door was shut again, and a second or two later the light dimmed as well. If nothing else, Rogue discovered one thing.

Mystique's new 'friends' were as sadistic as she was.

* * *

Logan brought his bike to an abrupt stop outside an old abandoned warehouse. He'd tracked down Alvers and gotten a few more details. Surprisingly enough, the kid hadn't been as stubborn or uncooperative as he normally would be. Logan had a feeling that seeing his former teammate being snatched had shaken the kid a bit. Probably not much, but enough to get him to give up more information about what he'd seen.

With the new information about the moving truck, he'd then tracked Mystique as far as he could. It hadn't taken him far, but the road he'd lost the scent on took him to the outskirts of the city. For miles, the only thing on this road was the warehouse now in front of him. It was worth a shot.

He parked his bike under a tree, hoping the foliage would hide it enough, and silently made his way towards the warehouse. There were no cars or vans in the area, but there were clear signs of tire tracks and footprints. Lots of footprints. There had been what looked like a small army here at some point. Pretty recently too by the looks of it.

After briefly inspecting the tracks he made his way inside, claws extended. It was quiet, but light from the large windows filled the interior. Other than a table and few chairs there was no furniture. Just empty cardboard boxes to one side that looked like they'd been around for a decade.

The form off to the side made him stop in his tracks though. It was a familiar blue body with red hair. "Mystique," he growled. He made his way over, careful to avoid any traps if there were any, and knelt down. She was tied up and seemed to be unconscious, neither of which altered his current anger towards her.

He didn't bother untying her, but lifted her up by the shoulders and shook her lightly in an attempt to wake her up. Fortunately, it worked.

Mystique shook her head, and when she opened her eyes she immediately tried to wrench herself away with a snarl. "Let go of me!"

"Not happenin', Mystique," he said in return, holding her firmly in place to keep her from moving. "Where's Rogue?"

Mystique's eyes widened before darting to the left and right as if looking for something. When her eyes landed on him again she glared. "Not here."

"I can see that." His patience was running out. And fast. "What'd you do with her?"

"I didn't do anything!" The woman was quite obviously seething with anger, and Logan had a feeling only half of it was because of him. "Brax took her before I could."

"Who's Brax?"

"Why should I tell you anything?"

"Because if you don't..." He let go with one hand and brought the tips of his claws to her throat. "You'll be breathing through three new holes. And if you morph into somthin' I'll just hunt you down all over again. So start talkin'."

Mystique seemed to weigh her options, and though the glare didn't fade for even a second, she apparently decided it was in her best interests to comply. "Brax works for HYDRA. I arranged for them to assist me in capturing Rogue."

"Why Rogue?" When she didn't answer quickly enough, he pressed the sharp ends of his claws a little harder against her neck.

"Because..." Her eyes darted away for a moment. "Destiny insists that there are more to Rogue's powers. She says there's a way that Rogue could retain the absorbed powers permanently. Do you understand what that _means_?"

The woman was drunk on power just thinking about it.

Logan scoffed. "Even if she could, Rogue wouldn't help you, Mystique."

"Maybe not...unless she didn't know any better," she added, mostly to herself with a slightly crazed expression. "If she thought I was the only person who cared about her..."

"What are you..." Logan trailed off as realization dawned on him. It was like a punch in the gut, and a second later he had a whole new reason to be furious. "You..." The word dripped with unabashed loathing and barely restrained fury. "Were planning on wiping her memory." The woman had worked with Mesmero before, he wouldn't be surprised if she had a few more 'friends' who could help.

Mystique didn't seem overly concerned, as if the opportunity she'd been working to obtain outweighed the thought of impending death at his hands. "Like starting from scratch with an even more powerful Rogue."

It took all his restraint not to skewer her there and then. "What was in it for them?"

The spark in her eyes turned to anger once again. "The agreement was for blood and skin samples, and a couple more extensive tests, but they double-crossed me."

"Doesn't feel so good, does it?" he asked sarcastically, not really needing an answer. There wasn't a single part of him that felt sorry for her. Not after everything she'd done, and everything she'd been planning on doing to Rogue. "Where did they take her?"

"I don't know."

"Where, Mystique!"

"I don't know!" she said again, copying his raised voice. "Honestly, Logan, use your head! They drugged me and left me tied up here. Do you really think they left me detailed instructions on where they were going?"

He growled, but had to admit she had a point. "I should kill you," he said lowly. For a moment he seriously considered it. As images of Rogue filled his head...tied up and drugged just like Mystique, maybe hurt...it almost seemed like a good idea.

He shook his head and pushed her back to the ground before standing. "But you're not worth it. Stay away from Rogue, Mystique. If you're smart, you'll get out of Bayville entirely." With that he stormed off, leaving her behind and heading for his bike.


	7. Subject 56399

Disclaimer: Still don't own it.

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Now let the experiments begin...

* * *

Rogue shoved her shoulder into the guard at her right. He grunted slightly, but didn't loosen his grip on her arm. The guard at her left yanked her closer to his side in response though. If her hands weren't chained behind her back she was sure she could take both of them, as well as the guard following, out and run. But, of course, they were stuck behind her back, held together with heavy cuffs around her wrists. Between them and the cuffs that had kept her chained to the wall, her wrist were already starting to get sore and the muscles in her arms ached from the prolonged positions.

She didn't know where they were taking her, and no one had had the decency to clue her in either. As they prodded her along she tried to keep track of directions, just in case she needed to know in the future. There were really no distinguishing landmarks or signs though. Just long hallways with metal walls, no windows, and closed doors. It kinda looked like a bunker of some kind. The only thing differentiating the doors were small, narrow plaques off to the side with numbers printed on them.

' _23472_ ,' she noted as they passed. 234755. 445612. 89564.

The numbers had no systematic organization that she could tell. They seemed completely random to her. The guards pulling her to an abrupt stop made her momentarily forget all about the numbers though. She looked at the doors in front of them with narrowed eyes. It was a set of double doors, the first she'd seen so far, and written on a plaque beside them was the word 'LAB001'.

The guard who had been following them stepped around to the front and slid a keycard through a scanner underneath the plaque. The small red light flashed green a second before he pushed both doors open. Without a word, the guards on either side of her began walking forward.

"Let go!" Rogue resisted, twisting and turning and shoving in an attempt to break free. There could be nothing good in that room.

The guard on her left pushed her into the room with a hard shove. Without the use of her arms she stumbled forward, got off balance, and skidded to the ground. Rogue pushed herself up onto her knees and shot a glare at whoever was standing a few feet in front of her. She then got to her feet and lunged forward, ramming her shoulder into the man's chest so hard they both fell back into the wall. Before she could get her balance again two pairs of hands were yanking her away from the man she'd just collided with.

She struggled a moment longer, out of pride mostly since she knew it was really just a waste of energy, and then glared at the man across from her. He didn't seem overly upset, but not happy either. She felt a tinge of familiarity a second before his fist collided with the side of her face.

"Told you she had some spunk," he said, almost amusedly.

The voice was more familiar than the face, and her eyes widened as she watched him walk past her. It was the voice she'd heard before waking up in the cell. She only vaguely remembered it, but it was the same.

"She gave one of my men a black eye, and broke another's nose."

Rogue felt a little proud about that. It wasn't much, not nearly as much as she _could_ do, but it was something at least. She only regretted that she didn't actually remember doing it.

The guards turned her around to face the rest of the room. The man she recognized leaned against an exam table. He was turned away from her and facing another man wearing a lab coat and latex gloves. She took the moment to study the rest of the room.

Two cells, these more like prison holding cells, lined half of one wall. A long counter with locked drawers ran the length of the opposite wall. And in the center of it all were two metal tables, with various examination machines just a few feet away.

"Congratulations on surviving the encounter," the man in the coat said, only half paying attention to the conversation. His steel blue eyes were locked on her. He was so focused on her that it felt almost as if he could see through her entirely and read her mind. "I believe that will be all for now," he added, finally moving his gaze from her.

She released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. There was something about him that left her with an uneasy feeling.

"Uh huh," the larger, more familiar, man said. "Let me know if you need any help with this one." There was something in his voice that made her believe his 'help' would be the opposite of helpful.

He was half-way across the room when she spoke for the first time since entering the room. "Where's Mystique?" She didn't really care, but wanted to know. The only thing she remembered, other than his voice, was the person she'd thought was her father changing into Mystique, and even that was fuzzy.

"I was forced to end our partnership early," he answered without even looking over his shoulder. "Have fun."

With that he was gone, and the doors closed behind him.

"Bring her over here."

Rogue at least tried to make it a little hard for them to move her, but in a matter of seconds she was standing next to the metal slab all the same. The man on the other side of the table smiled, but it was cold and detached. Almost as if he were looking at a rodent in a cage instead of an actual person.

"I am Doctor Kern," he began. "You are Subject 56399."

"My name is Rogue."

"You do not have a name. You are Subject 56399," he said calmly.

She wasn't going to get anywhere on that topic right now, she realized. "What do you want with me?"

"You are here to assist me with some experiments. Your compliance is highly suggested." The smile didn't waver, but his steel like eyes bore into her with a silent warning that sent a shiver down her spine. "Now," he added in a more upbeat tone. "Let's begin. Place the subject on the table."

There was only a moment for that statement to register before the table was suddenly tilted into an upright position. The guards unlocked the restraints, but the freedom was brief. Her back was quickly shoved against the cold table and her arms pinned down. Thick, tight fitting restraints made out of sturdy material were latched around her wrists, ankles, and knees.

"Think those will hold?" one of the guards asked.

With a jolt the table was suddenly tilted backwards until she was laying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling.

"They will do for now," the doctor answered. "The two of you may stand over there. I don't want you contaminating anything. Finnely!"

A younger man with dark hair and an unreadable expression appeared over her. She hadn't noticed him before. He glanced at her only briefly as he pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Yes, Doctor?" he asked.

"Begin the preparations while I explain to 56399 what is about to happen."

The younger man nodded and disappeared from view again, leaving Rogue to stare up at the icy gaze of the doctor over her. She didn't like this. Not at all. Pulling at the restraints was getting her nowhere though. She felt...exposed. Laid open for the world to see and without any way of protecting herself. Not even a long-sleeve to keep between herself and the people around her.

The doctor turned her head so it was dead center and facing upwards. "Today we are going to take x-rays and a blood sample. It will be a relatively short day. We have to have the basics before we can dive in completely though, don't we?"

"My friends are going to get me out of here," she stated, trying her best to sound and look threatening. It wasn't an easy task, considering her current position.

Kern laughed as his assistant moved a portable x-ray machine into position overhead. "I highly doubt you have all that many friends. Turn on the machine, Finnely."

* * *

A short day, Kern had said. Rogue pushed herself further into the corner of her cell and almost wanted to laugh. If this had been his idea of a short day, than she didn't want to know what a long one would be like. X-ray after x-ray and then two vials worth of blood samples, one from each arm as if it would make a difference. They'd poked and prodded, invaded her personal space to a whole new level, and all without acknowledging her actual existence.

She was the untouchable Rogue, but yet they had probed and touched and she'd been stuck there. Unable to get free. Unable to stop them. It was embarrassing more than anything.

She held out her arms to take a look at the tiny needle marks. Looking was a mistake. Seeing the tiny pricks brought back another memory. A memory of her father grabbing her wrist and shoving his cigarette into her arm. She held her arms close to her again and rubbed them as an imagined stinging sensation prickled her skin. The more vivid the flashbacks became, the more she could swear she felt them.

Now really wasn't the time for that though. Now was the time to stay focused, keep an eye out for possible escape opportunities, and to give them as hard a time as she possibly could. When the light suddenly went out, bathing her in darkness, that plan meant very little though.

She hugged her knees to her chest and closed her eyes.


	8. No Luck

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men.

A/N: This fic is only going to get darker for awhile. Warning: Torture/experimentation ahead.

* * *

"I could find no sign of Rogue with Cerebro," the Professor stated.

Kitty felt herself deflate a little. She'd been hoping the professor would have good news, but apparently not. "So...like...what do we do now?"

The Professor paused thoughtfully. "You had no luck tracking the vehicles, Logan?"

"Half went one way, the other half the opposite way. I couldn't pick up Rogue's scent either way."

Logan seemed miffed, Kitty thought. Angry at everyone, everything, and especially himself. She could kinda understand. She was angry at herself too. There must've been something she could have done for Rogue.

"So, do you think these guys have anything to do with the other missing mutants?" Scott asked.

"I believe so, Scott," the Professor answered. "Though as of yet there is no solid proof that any mutant, other than Rogue, is actually missing."

"But you said mutant signatures had disappeared," Jean said, sounding a little confused.

Kitty couldn't blame her either. She was confused as well.

"That does not necessarily mean the person was taken against their will. Only that Cerebro no longer registers them."

"What did ole' bucket head say?" Logan asked.

"Magnus is...suspicious. He cannot locate a contact of his, and believes he is being watched. And that we too are probably being watched," the Professor added.

"Well that much is obvious," Kitty commented, mostly to herself. She couldn't shake the idea of Rogue being off somewhere, alone, with these guys doing who-knows-what kind of things to her.

"Rogue is having a hard enough time as it is," Kurt said, speaking for the first time since Logan had returned and told his story. "Vhy did it have to be her."

Logan scoffed. "Kid can't catch a break, that's why," he muttered.

"What...What do you think they're doing to her, Professor?" Scott asked quietly.

Kitty had wondered the same thing, but hadn't dared to actually ask.

"Judging by what Mystique told Logan, I believe that Rogue is safe for now."

Logan scoffed again, but Kitty wasn't entirely sure if it was a scoff or a growl. "What he means," Logan began. "Is that they wouldn't go through all this trouble just to kill her right away."

"Logan!" Storm admonished with a narrowed look in his direction.

Kitty had no doubt she looked as horrified as she felt. The words 'kill' and 'Rogue' in the same sentence was something she'd heard before, but this time it sent a shiver of dread and fear down her spine.

Logan muttered something under his breath before stalking out of the room.

"What's the plan, Professor?" Jean asked once he was gone.

"For now, I ask that you all wait..." He held up a hand to ward off the impending protest. "I would like to question a few of my own contacts first. I assure you that we will find Rogue."

"Sure," Kurt muttered, barely even loud enough for Kitty to hear. "But vill we find her in time?"

* * *

Rogue had eventually drifted off to sleep, only to be startled awake by a banging on the cell door. A couple of guards, different from the last two, had entered and tossed an apple and a slice of toast at her before ordering her to eat. A jab with the taser rod had 'encouraged' her to eat faster.

Her side, already sore from the kick and jabs the day before, still ached. After eating, having a small cup of water, and being forced to use the bucket under supervision they had dragged her back to the room marked LAB001. No one else had been in the room, but they had restrained her to the exam table all the same.

She wasn't sure how long it had been, but she was getting tired of counting ceiling panels. She'd long since given up trying to break free of the restraints. Shifting didn't help her get more comfortable either. The table was hard, and the restraints were tight. She couldn't even scratch her nose.

As if sensing her boredom, Doctor Kern and Finnely strolled in. Finnely walked past her as if she were nothing worth his time, which she actually preferred over the cold, condescending smile Kern gave her as he stood over her. "Subject 56399, welcome back."

' _Rogue_ ,' she screamed in her head. _'My name is Rogue_.'

"Today's test will be slightly more invasive," he continued. She doubted he was actually talking to her though. "Finnely, do you have the anesthetic I asked you to prepare?"

"Yes, sir." Finnely appeared in her peripheral vision a moment later with a cotton swab and a small glass bottle.

Rogue was so focused on the bottle that she didn't notice Kern moving further down her side until his gloved hands lifted her shirt. With widening eyes she lifted her head to see what was going on, and watched as the shirt was rolled up to just above her abdomen, leaving most of her torso bare.

"What are you doing?" she asked, shooting the doctor a glare.

He ignored her. Instead he reached into a pocket of his coat and pulled out a marker. She flinched instinctively when the pointed tip touched her skin. It was something foreign, and her body had reacted. The doctor drew what felt like a square to the side of her abdomen. He then moved further down the table to her legs. She was half-expecting him to roll the pant legs up too, but instead he huffed and turned towards the guards.

"I thought I told Rigeal to have the subject put into shorts," he said, sounding angry. "Never mind," he added with another huff and a wave of his hand. "But I want this fixed for tomorrow. Finnely, cut these to a better length." He stepped back, marker still in hand, and waited impatiently.

Finnely appeared again with a pair of scissors and Rogue could only watch, both angry and slightly horrified, as he began to cut through the material of the gray pants. The higher the scissors went, the more skin his gloved fingers grazed. By the time he reached her thighs she had squirmed so much that she thought the restraints might actually break.

They didn't though, and Finnely was undeterred by her protests.

Soon the long pants were mostly just shreds that barely covered anything. It was only then that Finnely stepped away, and Rogue almost breathed a sigh of relief until Kern's marker was drawing on her skin again. This time a circle on her lower right leg, and a square on her left thigh.

"I've marked the subject's right leg, but we'll probably need to save it for another day," he commented. "Let's begin. Anesthetic." Rogue felt the swab, now wet with whatever had been in the bottle, rub across her abdomen in the area where he had marked a few minutes before. "Did the subject drink the water?"

"Yes, sir," one of the guards answered.

"Good."

Rogue had thought the water had tasted a little strange, but she'd been thirsty and desperate. Now that she thought about it, however, she did feel a little less tense than she probably should. It explained her lack of energy all together as well. It was either drink or die of dehydration though.

"Scalpel."

Her head shot up at the word, and even with the drug-induced drowsiness her heart started to race at the sight of the scalpel being placed in Kern's hand.

As the instrument was lowered towards her abdomen, Finnely spoke up. "That's a mild anesthetic, Doctor. It won't last long enough to..."

"I don't want anything contaminating the specimen. It'll do."

With that Rogue watched, horrified, as the blade of the scalpel pierced her skin. She didn't feel anything at first...

But then pain shot through her torso like a thousand knives slashing at her skin.

"Stop!" she cried out. Her words slurred unexpectedly, but she didn't notice. And they paid no attention to her outburst anyway.

The knife cut its way across her body, setting nerves ablaze with each passing second. It was slow and methodical. The doctor was precise, and uncaring about her pain.

Minutes passed, but it could have been hours. Wet streaks glistened on her bruised cheek, but Rogue just tried to focus on breathing. By the time Kern placed a patch of her skin into a specimen container she just wanted to be unconscious. Instead she watched blankly as Finnely sealed the container.

The pain ebbed away to a dull stinging, and for a moment she thought it was over. Her already forcibly lax muscles turned to jelly. At least until the sharp, stinging pain exploded from her thigh. She bit her lip to keep from crying out this time, and clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms.

It would stop, she told herself. The pain had to stop. It couldn't last forever.

By the time he placed another little patch of her skin into a specimen container, she wasn't so sure though.


	9. Slipping

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the X-Men

A/N: Bit of a filler. Thanks for reading, reviewing, and adding to alerts/favorites! You guys are awesome. More to come soon!

* * *

Rogue wrapped her arms tighter around her torso. She wished the blanket was thicker, but it wasn't. It barely seemed to keep her warm at all. The day before - or maybe two days before, it was hard to keep track - it had been almost unbearably hot and stuffy in her cell. Now it was cold. A damp, chilled to the bone kind of cold.

Maybe it was meant to be a new form a torture. Something to give the guards a good laugh. They seemed to enjoy laughing at her expense. Especially two in particular, who she had mentally nicknamed Limpy, since he'd limped for a while after she'd kicked him in the shin, and Creeps, so nicknamed because there was just something about how close he stood to her whenever escorting her somewhere that made her feel uncomfortable. She had no idea who they actually were or what they even looked like since they were always covered from head-to-toe.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the cell, or how long she'd been held prisoner in general, but it had to have been several days by now. Her food rations were down to a slice of toast once a day, and a piece of fruit if she was lucky and if Limpy and Creeps were in a good mood. Her water seemed to be laced with something every day. As thirsty as she was, she was almost glad they didn't give her more to drink. The bucket in the corner was filling up, and no one seemed in a hurry to do anything about it.

For a while she had half-expected to wake up and find Logan watching her from her bedside, like he usually did whenever she regained consciousness. He was never there though, and her hope of a sudden rescue was dwindling. Maybe they couldn't find her.

Or maybe they simply didn't care.

She shook her head and shut her eyes tightly. That wasn't true. They cared. They had to care. A part of her wanted to bang her head against the wall at how pathetic and desperate the little voice in her head sounded. What did it matter anyway? She was here now, and would just have to look out for herself.

With a sigh she carefully let the blanket fall from around her shoulders. Logically, she knew she needed to keep an eye out for infection, but the more realistic part of her knew it wouldn't matter one way or another. It gave her something to occupy herself with though. So with tired eyes she did a quick inventory.

The missing patch of skin on her abdomen was covered with a bandage, as were the ones on her lower leg and thigh. They seemed clean enough. Her side still hurt from the first day, and she was pretty sure between that and the subsequent kicks she'd received since, there was probably at least one broken rib. Her wrists and ankles were raw thanks to the restraints, and her right wrist in particular was a swollen mass of bruises. Probably a sprain, she figured. She'd wrenched her arms all sorts of directions while trying to get free, and her wrists had taken the brunt of the damage.

There was...something...on the back of her neck, but she wasn't sure what. She'd passed out at one point in the LAB during her fourth visit, and when she'd woken up she had been on her stomach with Kern standing over her removing his gloves. She'd been dragged back to her cell afterwards and had been too exhausted to notice anything. A small portion of skin on the back of her neck was slightly raised though, and it almost felt like precise lines and curves instead of just a random injury.

When the cold air became too much she pulled the blanket back up around her shoulders and pulled her knees to her chest for added body warmth. For possibly the first time, Rogue actually wished Kitty was around to babble or rant about random things she didn't care about. It had to be better than the silence and boredom as she waited to be dragged off to another session with Kern.

A brief flash of another talkative teen crossed her mind's eye, but she shook it off and filed it away just like Professor Xavier had taught her. She had no idea who the girl was. It was just a vague image from someone else's memory. Probably the mutant she'd been forced to absorb last time.

She was sure making her absorb other mutants was Kern's new favorite pastime. There was a gleam in his eyes these days that she didn't like the look of. Over the last few sessions she'd been forced to absorb a fellow prisoner. Each time Kern kept the contact a second longer. Both she and the other mutant would be monitored on separate exam tables. Heart rate, blood pressure, brain scans, x-rays, and blood samples were almost routine now. A routine she was getting very, very tired of.

She felt like nothing more than a rat in a cage. A microbe under a microscope. A test subject with no real life or meaning other than what the scientists decided you had.

Subject 56399.

She hadn't heard her own name since being here. She was 56399. A mutant worthy of a number and nothing else. It made her feel even more detached from the rest of the world, even more isolated. Her father would probably like these people. He would have handed her over to them without a second thought.

And maybe he'd been right all along. Maybe all she would ever amount to was a number and statistics in a scientist's data. Maybe that was all she was worth after all. Whether as Anna Marie, the human, or as Rogue the mutant.

She wasn't Logan, or Kitty, Kurt, Storm or Scott, and she definitely wasn't Jean. She didn't have their powers that could be used in almost any situation. Her mutation couldn't get the cell door open, or break through the exam table restraints, or transport her somewhere safe. She was just an obstacle. A danger, to an enemy or an ally.

So maybe her friends were better off without her, and maybe they had finally realized that. Letting her rot in here, instead of sending help. It would be an easy way to get rid of her without the hindrance of a guilty conscience. She couldn't really blame them.

She was the Rogue, after all.

She was poison.

* * *

Eight days.

Eight days with no sign of Rogue.

Kurt wanted to do more, but the Professor insisted there was nothing for him to do yet. Logan was out every day looking for her. He'd disappeared for three straight days at one point, and when he had come back he'd looked so irritated, angry, and just...disappointed that no one had dared to ask if he'd found anything. Kitty said she'd seen him drink an entire of bottle of something that had smelled like rotten leather and bug repellant afterwards.

They were all worried, and getting more worried by the day. So why the professor thought it was a good idea for him and Kitty to go to school he had no idea. It wasn't like he could concentrate on anything. Kitty wasn't even joining in on the graduation excitement.

" _There will be challenges in your life, Kurt_ ," the professor had said the night before. " _But you must learn to persevere and not let them interfere with living your life_."

" _What about Rogue's life, Professor?"_

Kurt didn't know if the professor had actually had an answer. He'd left without waiting to find out. He knew none of this was the professor's fault, but he was angry. Angry at Mystique and maybe the whole world in general. Was this how Rogue felt all the time? The only thing stronger than the anger he felt was the worry for his sister.

"You look like the world could swallow you whole right now and you wouldn't even notice."

Kurt looked up and shifted his backpack as Kitty joined him. She had dark circles barely hidden underneath a half-hearted make-up attempt, her smile didn't reach her eyes, and the tension she was trying to hide with humor was obvious. "You don't look any better."

Kitty immediately deflated, as if the facade of normalcy she'd been trying to cling to was just too heavy. "I miss Rogue," she admitted quietly. "I even miss her yelling at me to turn my music down. We've been roommates for like five years. I'd kinda forgotten what it was like not having her around."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Do you...Do you think she's really okay?"

Kurt shook his head and shrugged. He had no idea if Rogue was okay or if the nightmares he'd been having were actually accurate. He couldn't imagine her being okay after all this though. Before he could figure out what to say though, he spotted Lance leaning against a tree at the edge of school property.

"Vhat's he doing here?" he asked.

Kitty glanced in the Brotherhood member's direction and shrugged before continuing on her way. When Kurt caught up to her, she answered. "I think he's checking to see if Rogue came to school today."

"What?" he glanced over his shoulder, but Lance was gone. "Vhy would he bother to do that?"

"I don't know. I just...I mean...he waited outside the school just to tell us Rogue had been taken, Kurt. He didn't have to do that. And Rogue _was_ a member of the Brotherhood once..."

"They've tried to kill her since than!"

"Yeah, but..."

"He's probably just here to see you again," Kurt interrupted. He couldn't imagine any of the Brotherhood actually caring about whether or not Rogue was alive. If they weren't fighting the X-Men, and therefore Rogue as well, than they ignored her completely.

Kitty blushed lightly. "I guess. Maybe." She suddenly perked up and grabbed his arm. "Kurt, look! Did you see! I'm like, totally positive that was Logan!" she exclaimed, pointing to a motorcycle that had just sped by. "And he was heading towards the mansion!"

"He's back already? He just left this morning." For a moment he actually felt a little hopeful. It had only been a few hours since Logan had gone off on one of his searches, and while Kurt hadn't seen anyone else on the motorcycle, maybe Wolverine at least had a new lead. "Let's go!" Forgetting about the fact they were still in public, Kurt ported them both to the Institute.

In the blink of an eye they were standing outside the mansion. Logan looked over his shoulder as he opened the mansion door and arched an eyebrow at them. "There a fire somewhere?"

"Did you find something?" Kurt asked in return.

Kurt hadn't known it was possible, but he could swear Logan's face hardened even more. "One of Bucket Head's henchmen was taken," he told them.

"Which one?" Kitty asked.

Logan turned towards the mansion. "Inside," he said simply before stalking into the house.

Kitty shared a look with Kurt before they both quickly followed after him.


	10. Subject 97370

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own X-Men.

A/N: I have a feeling some of you have been waiting for this chapter. Warning: Violence and experimentation.

* * *

"Go ahead, mutant," Limpy sneered. "Try that again."

Rogue held her side and tried to breathe through the pain. It wasn't an easy task, and when a booted foot rammed into her back she fell face down onto the hard floor all over again, which knocked the air out of her lungs.

So maybe trying to run for it hadn't been a great plan. She just didn't want to go back to the LAB again. She was tired of it all, and just wanted it to stop. She would have preferred if they'd just shot her in the back as she ran though. A grunt of pain escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she knew what was coming before she even felt the hand on her shoulder.

She was shoved onto her back and looming over her was one of the guards. "What was that, mutant? You have something to say?"

She shook her head as much as she dared with the way her head was hurting. The gloved hand on her shoulder moved to her neck and squeezed, not enough to cut off her air entirely, but enough to make things very, very uncomfortable. Out of reflex she rammed her knee upwards and couldn't deny how satisfying it was to watch him double over with a grunt.

She took the opportunity to sit up and pushed herself back as far as she could go, which wasn't far. The glare she gave the two men wasn't nearly as icy or forceful as it had been when she'd first been kidnapped. She just didn't have enough energy or fight left for it.

Creeps grabbed her ankle as his partner recovered, and yanked her back with enough force that her head hit the ground, leaving her dazed and with little unfocused lights filling her vision. She supposed that was what seeing stars really meant. When her vision cleared Creeps was leaning over her, far too close for comfort. He used his longer legs to pin hers down and his hands held her arms at her side.

"Poor little thing," he said softly in a tone that made her feel sick. "No touching. Takes some of the fun out of life. There are ways around that though." One hand left her arm, but the look in his eyes froze her to her very core. A second later the taser rod was in front of her face. He let it rest on her shoulder, and she tensed, waiting for the explosion of agony.

It didn't come though. Instead Creeps ran the rod down her body slowly, and the look in his eyes told her he enjoyed watching her squirm. The rod went lower...and lower...and lower until he rested it in the gap between her legs. It was a pretty clear threat, and one that terrified her more than anything else he'd done to her so far.

"Just put the restraints on her and let's go," Limpy said, sounding both annoyed and a little bored. "We're already late."

"We'll finish this later, sweetheart," Creeps whispered.

He began to get up, and for a moment Rogue felt a little bit of relief, but as soon as Creeps was standing he drove the rod into her hip and she felt herself being consumed by fire all over again.

She blinked slowly and was somewhat surprised to find she was standing and half-way to the cell door by the time her head cleared. Her hands were already secured behind her back and the guards were on either side of her.

"Try another stunt like that and you'll find out what pain really is, mutant," Limpy said, his hand tightening around her arm with a bruising force.

She was pretty sure she already knew what pain was. If she hadn't before, she did now at least. She didn't comment though. It wasn't worth it.

As they walked along Rogue felt herself go a little numb, as if she wasn't even in her body anymore. She didn't want to absorb anyone else. Didn't want to be poked, prodded, and studied for hours on end until her borrowed powers faded. She didn't want to see the scared look in her victim's eyes as her powers kicked in.

They made her keep the connection a little longer each time, sometimes just by a millisecond, and each time the person she absorbed took longer to recover. More than once she'd been terrified she'd killed someone.

Even though she made a point to drag her feet, they still arrived at the LAB far too quickly. She closed her eyes for a second as they gave her a shove through the doors. Closing her eyes didn't stop things from hurting, but maybe it would prolong it a little.

"Chere?"

Rogue's eyes snapped opened. She knew that voice. Sure enough, in one of the holding cells, a familiar pair of red eyes stared back at her. "Gambit?"

Each hand was incased in some kind of metal containment devise, his lip was bleeding, and he eyes looked a little clouded as if he were drugged. Which, as Rogue knew from experience, he probably was.

"What are you doing here?" She realized how stupid of a question it really was about a second after asking. "How long have you been here?" she asked without waiting for an answer even as she was pushed towards the exam table.

"That's enough, 56399," Kern ordered. "Put her on the table, and then place these on her hands," he added, handing a pair of metal glove-like devices to Creeps. They were almost identical to Gambit's, except maybe a little smaller.

Rogue didn't pay them much attention though. She could only stare at the familiar mutant who watched her every move in return. The way he looked at her, his brows creased and his eyes intense, made her wonder just how much of a mess she looked. Judging by his expression, it wasn't good.

She was just glad to see someone familiar though, even if it was technically an enemy of the X-Men. At the same time she felt kinda bad for being glad he was here. Because no one should have to be here. Not even Gambit.

It wasn't long before she was strapped to the table though, her hands now trapped within the strange devices. Whatever they were, they made her hands feel unnaturally numb. She couldn't even feel her fingers, much less move them.

There was clinking and clanking noises as things were prepared, but Rogue barely noticed. Her heart was pounding as she stared up at the ceiling. If Gambit was here, in one of the holding cells, it meant he was the next person she was supposed to absorb. She didn't want to absorb him anymore than she'd wanted to absorb any of the others.

"We're ready. Bring Subject 97370."

Rogue swallowed around the lump in her throat. There was no use protesting. This was going to happen against her will just as it had before. A part of her wanted to apologize in advance.

Sure enough, two guards restrained Gambit to the second exam table just as the one she was on was slid into an upright position. She knew the drill, but there was a confused look on Gambit's face. The two tables, now both upright, slowly moved closer to each other thanks to the track underneath them. This was usually the part where the unsuspecting person had one arm unlocked and forced towards her. In this case, however, she wasn't sure how it would work since both hers and Gambit's hands were fully incased.

The question was answered, however, when Gambit's already bare foot was unchained and then quickly reattached to a movable leg rest that was raised upwards enough that, once the tables stopped moving, his foot would touch her leg. She looked up at him again, and tried to convey her apology. As their eyes locked a look of realization crossed his face.

As if sensing what she was thinking, he gave her a crooked half-smile. "S'ok, Chere," he drawled, his words slurring from the drugs they'd given him.

"No talking," Kern snapped. He then addressed Finnely, who stood nearby. "The goal is for 6.5 seconds. Hold him tightly," he added to the guards.

Gambit struggled, and Rogue closed her eyes as a taser rod was jabbed into his shoulder. He shook his head as the effects wore off, and she almost felt bad for not warning him sooner.

"Sorry," she finally rasped aloud. Her voice cracked, and was barely above a whisper. She wasn't sure if it was from disuse, the drugs, or the beating earlier.

Gambit stared at her with an unreadable expression, but she thought she might have spotted a brief flash of concern. Or she could have imagined it.

Their eyes remained locked a moment longer, his unreadable and hers probably just resigned and exhausted. Then suddenly his eyes widened and his face tensed. His memories flooded through her like a wave, crushing everything else in their way and covering all other thoughts and memories of herself. For a moment, a split-second, she was no longer Rogue, but Remy LeBeau.

His eyelids soon fluttered closed and his head fell forward limply. A surge of panic shot through her, helping to push the memories away and grounding her slightly. She still felt the tug, the tingling of her powers in action, as memories not her own continued to fill her head.

"4.7," she heard distantly, but barely noticed as she tried to file away the avalanche of Gambit's thoughts...his memories...his life...

With an inner jolt she knew they had finally broken the contact. She sucked in a deep breath as her vision swam in and out of focus. Her head was spinning as she tried to make sense out of the chaos going on inside.

Another jolt, this time physical, told her she was back to her original horizontal position. A tingling warmth almost like static shot through her arms and into her fingertips, but it was gone a second later as her hands once again went numb and limp.

Around her she heard data being rattled off. Her blood pressure. Her heart rate. Synapses firing. It was the same old thing. A needle was inserted into her arm and then removed. Gloved hands moved her face from side-to-side, a light was shined into her eyes, and X-ray machines were moved around her.

After a while the exhaustion took over though. She couldn't fight it anymore. The sounds around her dulled to a distant buzzing before her eyes slipped closed.

* * *

Rogue inhaled sharply as she woke up, but didn't open her eyes. She wanted to wake up, open her eyes, and find Logan nearby just like he always was whenever she wound up in the med-lab. Opening her eyes and finding him not there was something that she wasn't ready to face.

As people moved and talked around her she came to realize that she wasn't at the Institute, that she wasn't safe, and that she was still in the LAB. Opening her eyes would make it all real though. Maybe if she could just pretend to be unconscious...

The unexpected sting of a needle caused her to wince before she could stop it though. Even when she finally opened her eyes, she wasn't sure if they'd given her something or taken something. To her relief they ignored the fact she was awake. It wasn't too surprising though. They only cared about what they could get from her, not about her specifically, which was something she was pretty used to anyway.

Once Finnely walked away she hesitantly turned her head, dreading what she would find. Gambit was still there, but he at least seemed to be breathing even if he was unconscious. Or in a coma. Or...

She focused her gaze on a random spot of his face, not really seeing him as much as she was seeing his memories. It was harder to keep them at bay these days. With all the new personalities in her head, it was like her mind couldn't quite organize everything so quickly. A part of her was afraid she'd lose control again, but another part wasn't so concerned with that thought. If all the psyches surfaced at once than maybe she'd be able to get free and burn this entire place to the ground.

She was so lost in thought that the activity around her faded into the background. It wasn't until she saw Gambit wince that she snapped back to reality. "Gambit?" she whispered, not wanting to get any unwanted attention.

He shifted on the exam table and tugged at his arms, but he was as stuck as she was. It was a useless endeavor really, but she understood the need to at least try to get free. Kern, Finnely, and another scientist she'd only seen once before crowded around the other mutant, talking amongst themselves as they inspected him.

It was several minutes before they moved over to one of the counters on the other side of the room. By then, Gambit was more fully awake. His eyes scanned the room for a second before flickering over to her. When their eyes met he gave her a weak, crooked smile. "Well hello there, chere. How're my powers treating you?"

She tugged at the restraints around her wrists as if to emphasize the fact her hands were as useless as his were at the moment. "How do you think?" she snapped, but her voice cracked and made it sound a lot more pathetic than she'd been hoping for.

His smile fell and his brows creased as he not-so-subtly looked her over. "They did quite a number on you, chere."

She scoffed and turned her head so she could stare up at the ceiling, and so he wouldn't see the moisture gathering in her eyes. Crying didn't help anything, and she wasn't about to let him see her tears anyway. Or anyone see them for that matter.

But everything hurt so much.

"I don't need the subject to be a _dead_ mutant," she heard Kern say, apparently speaking to Limpy and Creeps.

"She tried to escape."

Rogue continued to stare upwards, but she could feel Gambit's eyes on her and knew he could hear the conversation as well.

"I don't care," Kern replied. "Restrain her, teach her lesson, do whatever you want, but do not go so far as to cause serious injuries that may kill her. Not while I still have use of her."

She almost flinched at how...casual he was about her life, but instead simply glared at the ceiling. She might have laughed at the thought of Creeps and Limpy being admonished like a couple of kids if it wasn't for the fact she could still remember, with vivid clarity, the beating she'd received just a few hours earlier. She also knew that they wouldn't stop just because Kern told them not to kill her. They would just be more careful not to kill her.

As if sensing her need for a distraction, Gambit spoke again. "How long have you been here, chere?"

She waited to see if Kern or one of the guards would tell them to be quiet, but apparently they were all too focused on their own tasks and conversations to bother paying attention to the quiet conversation of the two mutants.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "What about you?"

"Day or two."

"Does anyone..." She shifted in hopes of getting more comfortable, but of course it didn't work. "Does anyone know you're here?"

"Oui. Pyro got away. He's sure to have told our illustrious leader by now."

There was a trace of bitterness in his tone that gave her pause. She looked over and met his gaze again. "You don't talk about Magneto like you...like him very much."

"Do you like him, chere?"

"I'm not one of his henchmen."

"It's a living. Remy's gotta do somethin'."

"Whatever." She looked away again. She wasn't even sure why she was bothering to have a conversation with the guy anyway. This would most likely be the last time she saw him again. She had nothing better to do though, and it was a distraction from everything that ached. "You could do something else," she said softly after a few minutes.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something."

"Like being an X-Man?" There was a touch of sarcasm lacing what was meant as a joke.

She rolled her eyes and turned her head to watch whatever it was that Kern was doing with a vial of blood. She wasn't sure if it was her blood or Gambit's. "I guess."

"Your Professor Xavier does seem to like taking in strays."

Her head snapped back around and she narrowed her eyes at the smirking Cajun. "Are you comparing me to a dog?"

"Hardly, chere."

"I'm pretty sure you did."

"Remy wouldn't dream of it."

"Remy better watch his mouth before Rogue closes it for him." As annoyed as she was, the buzz of agitation almost felt good. It was something other than anger or fear or pain. It was something familiar that she could deal with.

"Remy thinks he likes the sound of that."

She rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth, regretting it when a stabbing pain shot through her bruised jaw. Kern and the other scientist she didn't know the name of returned for a body scan and to check whatever else it was they were checking. As they worked she felt herself slipping back into a disconnected state, as she'd gotten into the habit of doing.

When they were finally done for the time being she felt the need to say something. Tears prickled the corner of her eyes as she realized this probably really would be the last time she saw Gambit. One or both of them would probably be dead soon. And even if she wasn't his biggest fan, she felt like she should say _something_ before it was too late.

Before she could think of what the something could be, however, he spoke instead. "Do you regret leaving the Brotherhood, chere?"

It was such a random, out of the blue question that she turned her head to stare at him. This time he was the one staring up at the ceiling, apparently lost in thought. Something about his expression and the way he'd asked that question told her that this was important.

"No," she answered.

"Not even a little?"

"No," she repeated. Her friends may annoy her at times, but in the end they were just that. Her friends. Regardless of what they felt for her or thought about her, she would always consider them family. They were all she had.

She knew a bit about what Gambit's family was like, and could understand not wanting to have anything to do with them. It helped that there was a part of him in her head. Maybe...just maybe...he needed an invitation to join another family. Just like she had.

The Professor would want her to try and help, she knew. She was sure she'd disappointed him and the others enough by now, so maybe offering Gambit a friendly hand to grab onto would make her feel as if she'd at least accomplished something before they killed her.

"You could always work with the X-Men, ya know," she said quietly, so quietly she wasn't sure he'd even heard her.

"It's hard to find people you can trust, chere."

"I know." She looked over in time to see two guards entering the LAB. They weren't Limpy or Creeps, so they had to be here for Gambit. She looked his way again and was startled to find him staring at her intently, as if studying her. "I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted out, tugging at her hand to explain what about. She hadn't wanted to absorb him. She didn't want him to have to be here.

He gave her that slightly infuriating crooked smile again. "Not your fault, chere."

As the two guards began preparing Gambit for transport, Kern turned Rogue's head away and pressed something cold against her neck. She wasn't sure what it was and didn't care. Instead she simply watched as Gambit was led out of the LAB.


	11. Sacrifice

Disclaimer: I still don't own the X-Men.

A/N: So close and yet so far.

* * *

"So...like...Magneto knows where Rogue is?" Kitty asked excitedly.

Logan shook his head. "He _thinks_ he knows where that Acolyte of his is."

"Pyro wouldn't tell us where though," Scott added, looking annoyed and a little disappointed in himself at the same time.

"I doubt he knows. He would've told us if he did."

Kitty wasn't going to ask why he'd do that. She had a feeling she didn't want to know just what kind of threats Logan had given the guy.

"I will contact Magnus and..."

"I don't think we have time for that, Charles," Logan interrupted.

"Pyro said Magneto told him to meet him somewhere tonight," Jean explained. "He got away before we could find out where they were meeting, but...we're pretty sure Magneto is going to try and break Gambit out soon."

"Do you think they'll try to get Rogue out as vell?" Kurt asked, sounding almost desperately hopeful.

The Professor closed his eyes and sighed, and Kitty felt her own hope being crushed into a million tiny pieces. "If he has the opportunity, he might. Since he knows we are searching for her, and we have not been at odds lately. However, I would not put my trust in Magneto to do what is right, if it hampers his personal gain. I have my doubts about whether or not he would attempt to rescue Gambit if he did not have something Magnus was after."

"So..." Kitty began. "What are we going to do, Professor?" It felt like she was asking that question way too often lately.

"We are going to try to find where this meeting is taking place, and if possible, follow Magneto to wherever it is that he believes his Acolyte has been taken to."

"And then we're going to rescue Rogue, right?" Kurt asked.

"There are many things to consider before jumping to conclusions or hastily taking action, Kurt."

"But..."

"One step at a time."

Kurt sagged, but nodded. Kitty knew how he felt. She just wanted to get Rogue back, preferably in one piece.

* * *

Rogue coughed and then winced as the jarring motion sent a stabbing pain through her chest. Her throat was dry and scratchy and she was pretty sure she was coming down with a cold. Which was obviously just want she needed on top of everything else that was wrong.

She carefully shifted on the hard flood of her cell, trying to get more comfortable. As tired as she was, she couldn't seem to sleep. If she did fall asleep, she would probably just be woken up by banging on her door before the nightmare started all over again.

She found a small amount of solace in the fact that, eventually, they would be done with her. She highly doubted they would ever let her go, but maybe if they had no more use for her they'd put her out of her misery. The thought should probably be depressing, but it wasn't. It was almost a relief to think about.

She just hurt all over.

Her head pounded, voices in her head screamed at her, memories of her father cursing at her wouldn't leave her alone, and the physical pain was only getting worse. It _had_ to stop eventually.

She was finally on the brink of sleep when something startled her awake. At first she wasn't sure what it had been, but then she heard it again. A loud crashing noise from outside. It was followed seconds later by people yelling. She couldn't understand what was being yelled, but they were obviously worked up about something.

Another loud _bang_ , this time closer, and the sound of something hitting the door of her cell. Her heart raced as she tried to stand up. Her sore limbs made it difficult. A burst of hope helped her to fight through the pain though. Maybe it was her friends. What if they'd finally come to get her? What if...

A much louder _crunch_ actually made the door give a lurch, but then suddenly the light in the cell went out completely. Her breath hitched when she was suddenly engulfed in total darkness. It creeped in around her, pressing closer and closer until she felt as though she would suffocate. Her back hit a wall, but she forced herself to remain standing.

" _You'll stay in there till I say so_ ," _her father's voice yelled before the closet door was slammed shut_.

She closed her eyes against the memory and pushed through the panic. It was just a little darkness. A little darkness while she was trapped in a locked room, being held prisoner by sadistic madmen. Nothing to panic over.

With a deep breath she opened her eyes. Not that it did any good. She couldn't see two feet in front of her with or without her eyes open. Her friends were here though, and she wasn't just going to sit back and wait.

"Help!" she screamed as loudly as she could. "I'm in here!"

There was more yelling outside, this time sounding like an argument. Another crashing noise. The voices stopped, and for a moment she felt a cold chill go down her spine at the thought that they'd given up.

But then the door jerked open.

Light flooded into the cell so quickly she had to shut her eyes against the sudden brightness.

"Chere?"

Her heart thudding against her ribcage. "Gambit?" She squinted against the light and stepped forward. She didn't care who it was. The door was open and she was leaving. She limped out of the room as fast as she could, but Gambit held out an arm to stop her from going too far. A moment later she realized why.

Large chunks of metal and smaller bits of debris were being flung all over the place. Guards were running back and forth, firing at something around the corner. A long blast of fire shot from the other direction, followed by a crazed sounding laugh.

Magneto and Pyro, she realized.

"Where are the X-Men?" she asked, looking around as if they would jump out at any second. If Magneto came to rescue Gambit, surely they would be around to rescue her.

Gambit gave her a slightly confused, and slightly concerned look. "I don't know. But we got to get outta here, chere." He went to grab her arm, but she snatched it away. The action made her a little dizzy and she had to brace herself against the corridor wall. He wasn't wearing gloves though, and she barely had any sleeves.

"Gambit!" Magneto's booming voice echoed from somewhere down the hallway. It was hard to tell exactly where with all the debris and smoke. "Let's go!"

A large piece of what Rogue thought was a door went flying their way, barely missing their heads and colliding instead with the guards running towards them. What dawned on Rogue then was that her friends weren't here. Magneto, of all people, had come to rescue Gambit. No one had come to rescue her though.

"Time to run, Rogue," Gambit said over the chaotic mess around them.

He started off in the direction of Magneto's voice, and she ran after him. Her injured leg protested with each step, and her vision swam for a moment as smoke tickled her nose and throat. A cough ripped through her chest. It felt like her lungs were burning from the inside out, and she didn't think it was because of the smoke.

A maniacal laugh came from behind them and a second later Pyro ran past her before disappearing up ahead. Something grazed her arms, and it wasn't until she heard Gambit cursing under his breath that she realized the 'something' had been a bullet.

The guards chasing after Pyro had found them instead.

Rogue looked over her shoulder in time to see one of them gaining speed, his gun aimed directly at Gambit's head. With wide eyes she grabbed the back of Gambit's shirt and yanked him out of the way with all her strength. They both hit the wall as bullets flew past, one narrowly missing the Cajun's head.

The guards were getting closer and, judging by the yelling from up ahead, Magneto had his hands full with some as well. She looked at Gambit as they tried to take cover behind a stray piece of metal that had been ripped from the wall. The bullets kept coming, smoke filled the hallway, and angry yells came from every direction.

On top of it all, Rogue wasn't sure how much longer her leg would hold her up. It was already hard to think, and judging by the drugged induced haze in Gambit's eyes he wasn't having much luck focusing either.

At least one of them should make it out alive though.

What felt like long minutes of thought were only a few brief second before she made up her mind.

"Tell my friends..." She trailed off, drawing a blank.

Gambit didn't seem to notice anyway. He was focused on trying to avoid getting shot while they inched their way further down the hall. Without a moment's hesitation, she propelled herself out from behind the scrap metal. He made a grab for her, but she was out of his reach. She ducked as a bullet flew past her head.

"Run!" she yelled at him.

"I'm not leaving you," he stated, reaching out for her shoulder again and dragging her back behind the cover.

The guards were getting closer again, and though they'd stopped shooting for a moment, she knew it wouldn't last. "Get out of here, Gambit! Go!"

"Remy ain't leaving you, chere."

She met his eyes and knew he wasn't joking. It was nice to know at least one person wouldn't leave her behind so easily. The moment was broken, however, when the guards started yelling at them to surrender.

Magneto's voice thundered down the hall. "Gambit! Now!"

"Go!" she yelled at him over all the noise. "I'll distract them," she added as the guards began firing again. "Just run as soon as you can."

With that she made a run for it, but not towards Magneto. She heard Gambit yelling after her as she charged the guards, who froze in surprise. Their shock only lasted a moment though. She kicked and punched and rammed herself into them with as much strength as she had left. It was enough to distract them, leaving Gambit a clearer path to escape.

Just as her arm was wrenched behind her back she looked back to see if Gambit was gone. He was, she realized, but not on his own two feet. As she was forced to the ground by half a dozen guards she watched as Colossus ran out of sight with an unconscious Gambit slung over his shoulder.

The yelling and crashing sounds continued for a few more seconds as she was dragged in the opposite direction. An explosion far away made her smirk weakly, but the satisfaction only lasted a moment before a taser rod was shoved into her bruised side. She collapsed to the ground, and the guards gathered around her as if waiting for her to get up and resist some more.

But she didn't.

She simply laid there, her hands restrained behind her back, and eventually the noise around her blended into the background. She had no energy left to do anything, and no real desire to. Everything she'd been through...everything she'd fought to survive...

What was the point?

This was going to be the end for her.


	12. The Right Direction

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own X-Men.

A/N: This was originally going to be part of a much longer chapter, but I figured it was a bit too long, so I split it up. Extra special thanks to you all for sticking with this story, and for the wonderful reviews! I hope you enjoy what's still to come.

* * *

"Cerebro located Pyro when he used his powers; however..."

Logan was about two seconds away from storming out of the house and finding Magneto himself. Whether Bucket Head survived the encounter or not would depend on if he'd seen Rogue, and if he'd gotten her out of wherever it was she was being held.

"However what, Professor?" Kurt urged when Charles trailed off.

The tension in the room could practically be cut with a knife. Everyone was ready to burst into action at the first inclination that they might know where Rogue was. Chuck's dramatic pause wasn't helping matters.

"Get on with it, Charles," he half-growled.

"However, the signal was lost shortly after."

"What?" Scott exclaimed. "How could that be?"

"I assume the same way the other mutant signatures disappeared," the professor answered. "I believe that there is some kind of dampening field that is blocking Cerebro. Perhaps even the building itself."

Logan had been so focused on finding Rogue, he'd nearly forgotten that they'd been investigating mutants dropping off of Cerebro's sensors before she'd been taken. It all made sense now though. Rouge could have been using her powers all along, and they wouldn't have known.

"Kinda like Juggernaut's helmet?" Kitty asked.

"It could be similar. Without seeing it in person, I cannot say for sure."

"You have a location of where Pyro was before Cerebro lost him, don't you, Charles?" Ororo asked. She hid it well, and to anyone else it probably went unnoticed, but Logan was sure he picked up a hint of hope in her otherwise calm demeanor.

"Yes, I do."

There was a rustle of excitement and relief in the room. Even Logan found himself smirking in satisfaction. They hadn't been able to trace Magneto and the others in time to catch up with them, but at least Charles had found something to help. He was just about to start dishing out orders to the kids when his heightened senses picked up on something.

He narrowed his eyes and took a long whiff of the air. "Someone's comin'." He headed for the front door without waiting for the others to react.

The closer he got to the door, the more he recognized the smell. Unfortunately, it wasn't Rogue. He flung open the door with a hard glare just as one of Magneto's Acolytes was about to knock. "Swamp Rat," he snarled.

There was no Rogue. Even though he hadn't caught her scent, he'd been hoping she would be waitin' for him on the other side of the door. Instead it was the Cajun menace. The Acolyte returned his glare with a hard look of his own.

Logan wasn't impressed.

He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and yanked him inside just as the others arrived. "So Magneto got you out in one piece..." Admittedly, Gambit looked a little worse for wear. He looked haggard and utterly exhausted. Logan couldn't bring himself to care though. "Too bad. Where's Rogue?"

"If you let Remy go he'll tell you."

 _Skink_.

Logan held three long claws up to the man's neck. "This isn't a negotiation."

"Logan..." Charles warned.

He glared at the Cajun a second longer before releasing him with a low growl. He stepped back and crossed his arms, waiting for Gambit to make the wrong move so he'd have a reason to start slicin' and dicin'.

"Welcome to the Institute," Charles greeted as the swamp rat brushed off invisible dust where Logan had grabbed him. "I see Magnus' rescue mission was a success."

"Oui," Gambit replied. "I guess it was."

"Where's my schwester?" Kurt demanded.

For a moment Gambit actually looked apologetic. The look was gone in the blink of an eye though, and Logan wasn't even sure it'd ever been there. "She's still there," he answered.

"But you saw her?" Kitty asked. It was pretty obvious the kid was trying not to get her hopes up, and failing.

"Remy saw her alright. She wasn't doin' so good."

But she was alive, Logan told himself. At least she was still alive. Rogue was a tough kid. She'd already survived more than most teenagers her age. For now, he had to believe that as long as she was alive there was hope. She could overcome anything, and he'd be there to help. Just as long as she was alive.

"And you left her there." Logan leveled the man with another hard glare.

Gambit narrowed his eyes in return. "I didn't have a choice. I broke her out of her cell, but she..."

"The rest of that sentence better be a _really_ good explanation."

The Cajun bristled slightly, obviously not liking Logan's tone. He turned his attention to Charles instead and continued though. "She used herself as a distraction."

"What?" Jean asked, voicing the confusion and curiosity that they were all feeling.

"Remy don't remember too much after that. The drugs..." He shook his head, and the exhaustion seemed to intensify. "There were guards every which direction. Shootin' at us. We couldn't reach Magneto. So Rogue told me to get out and she ran off towards the guards. I remember tryin' to run after her, but Remy got shot." He gently tapped his shoulder for emphasis. "Next thing I know, Colossus is slinging me over his shoulder. That's all I remember until waking up a couple hours ago."

"Thank you for bringing us this information, Gambit," Charles said, breaking the silence that had descended after the story.

"She was alive, but not sure for how much longer," the Cajun stated seriously. "Security in that place is too tight. She'll need help."

"Which we plan on giving her, I assure you."

Logan wasn't sure why Charles felt it necessary to assure the swamp rat of anything. He'd already kidnapped Rogue once. It would take more than a little information to make up for that in he's book. "You gonna show us where this place is?"

Gambit shook his head. "I don't know where it is. I was unconscious."

"Would you like to accompany us anyway? Your insight could prove useful," Charles added.

"I can tell you everything I know, but Remy can't go." He actually looked a little bitter about it, Logan noticed. "Got to...finish something that the boss wanted him to do."

"Of course. Any information would be appreciated."

Chuck was a little too understanding for Logan's taste, but he let it go. At least there wouldn't be a swamp rat tagging along that he'd have to keep an eye on. "Start spillin'," Logan told him. "And make it quick."


	13. How To Break a Rogue

Disclaimer: If I ever own the X-Men, I'll let you know.

A/N: This chapter and the previous one were originally going to be one chapter, but this seemed to work better. Some of you may have seen this coming, but I'm hoping at least a few people will be a little surprised. Warning: Experimentation ahead.

* * *

She wasn't sure how long it had been since Gambit had escaped since she'd been unconscious until just a few minutes ago. Apparently it had been long enough that they were ready to take her to the LAB again though.

Limpy and Creeps had, unfortunately, survived Magneto crashing the party, but she was glad to see Creeps was now limping at least. Unfortunately, the break-in and break-out only seemed to make them both angrier.

And, of course, she was their favorite outlet.

"If you even _think_ about giving us any trouble," Limpy warned, his voice dripping with barely contained fury. "You'll wish you'd never been born, mutant."

It was too late for that, Rogue wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut and stared at the two pairs of boots near her face. She wasn't going to fight them anymore. She had nothing left to fight with, or for.

Why should she bother fighting anymore anyway? What was there to fight for? Her father had left her outside a bar like a piece of trash. Mystique adopted her for one purpose, and when she wasn't willing to cooperate she didn't care about her at all.

And the X-Men weren't coming for her.

Professor Xavier had let her hang around, and in return she'd joined the X-Men. What did she really have to offer them though? Just trouble. She woke Apocalypse. She even attacked them when she couldn't stay in control of the psyches.

In return they had left her here to rot, but she couldn't blame them. She couldn't live up to their expectations. She was better off here, alone, as a lab experiment. That's all she was ever meant to be apparently.

Subject 56399.

That's who she was, and the only thing she'd ever be.

Because her friends weren't coming.

They should have located her with Cerebro by now. She'd used her powers enough. Yet she was still here. Magneto had come for Gambit after just a couple of days. She'd been here much longer.

' _They're not coming_ ,' she told herself with dawning realization as it finally set it. The hope she'd been clinging to shattered and fell down around her in little tiny pieces that seemed to stab at her heart. _'They're not coming.'_

They'd abandoned her. Just like her father had.

Any little will to fight she'd had left was suddenly gone, leaving her empty and emotionally numb. She had nothing left anymore. No future to care about. No one to stay alive for. She felt dirty, and used, and undeserving of sympathy. Like a piece garbage destined for a dumpster. A broken shell of girl.

She didn't struggle when they lifted her to her feet. As they half-dragged her down the ransacked hallway she stared at the floor. They hadn't broken her completely before, but all it had taken in the end was for her to finally accept reality.

The walk took longer than usual. Partially because of all the debris and the added security personnel, but Rogue realized it was also because they didn't go to the same place they usually did. She looked up just in time to see a plaque with the word LAB002 engraved on it. She'd never been to LAB002.

The doors were heavier and thicker than LAB001, so it hurt more when Creeps shoved her into it. As they pushed her inside she still gave no resistance. She looked around her new surroundings with a blank expression.

The room was almost identical to the one she was used to. The difference was in the details. The bars of the cells glistened with a material she'd never seen before. It was metallic, but not any kind of metal she was familiar with. The same kind of material was used to make the restraints on the exam tables, she noticed.

"When I get out of here..."

Rogue looked up and realized there was actually someone in one of the cells. A woman with blond, curly hair and an expression that could send most people running. Her hands where shackled together with the same weird metallic material as the bars and exam table restraints. The woman rammed her shoulder against the bars of the cell and they rattled, but didn't give.

She thought it a little strange that the woman seemed so furious and tense. Mutants were usually kept drugged to prevent that level of tension. She studied the woman half-heartedly for a moment as they strapped her onto the table. Rogue was sure it wouldn't be long before she knew all kinds of things about the woman though, without even having to ask.

"Subject 56399. Today we are going to take another skin sample. It will only take a moment, because we need to hurry onto the main experiment for today." Kern never once actually looked at her. Most of the time he never actually addressed her directly though, so she wasn't surprised.

A scalpel was in his gloved hand before she had time to really let the words sink in. Finnely pried her left hand open and held it firmly against the table, leaving her palm facing upwards. The angry woman in the cell quieted down as Kern leaned over Rogue with the scalpel.

She knew what was coming, but still couldn't stop the scream that tore through her dry throat. He hadn't bothered to use any anesthetic this time. When it suddenly became deathly silent she wondered hazily what had happened to all the noise, only to realize it was quiet because she'd stopped screaming.

It took a moment before she realized Kern was speaking again while Finnely wrapped a bandage around her bleeding hand. "Thanks to the unexpected break-in, we're being forced to relocate," the doctor said as he went around the room preparing this and that. "We wanted to conduct this experiment before preparing the subjects for transport though."

She didn't care. She really, really didn't care.

Her hand throbbed painfully as the woman in the cell began banging around again. She blinked tiredly and tried to focus on what was going on, but all she really wanted to do was sleep.

"That was double the dose we usually give," Finnely stated.

Rogue turned her head and strained to look over at the cell. One of the guards held a dart gun, which was pointed directly at the blonde woman. She rubbed her arm with one hand, and threw a dart towards Finnely with other.

"How much was needed to subdue her yesterday? When Brax first captured her."

"I'll check the computer." Finnely disappeared from the room for a minute, but returned quickly. "Ten times the normal amount."

"Give her eight times the norm. We do not want her completely unconscious," Kern instructed the guard.

The guard nodded, reloaded the dart gun, and took aim. The woman in the cell flew upwards to avoid it, but the cell was too small for her to go far. The dart struck her in the hip. It took another five minutes or so, but eventually she was out of it enough that three of the guards managed to get her onto the second exam table and the restraints securely fastened.

Through it all Rogue was mostly in a daze. She was cold and her chest hurt. Even breathing hurt. And she didn't have even a scrap of hope to hold onto. Because her friends weren't coming for her.

 _They weren't coming_.

By the time they had positioned the exam tables into their upright positions, the blonde woman was beginning to stir again. She blinked slowly and stared ahead, her piercing eyes boring holes into Rogue's head even with the sluggishness.

There must have been something on her face, because the woman's eyes seemed to soften. "Hey, it's ok, kid. Don't worry."

Rogue could have laughed, but didn't feel like it. The absurdity of it all was almost too much. They weren't going to be ok. The woman trying to comfort her had no idea what was going on or what was about to happen. She had no idea that Rogue was about to absorb her powers and mind.

"We will not risk manipulating Subject 51351," Kern told Finnely and the other scientist who had joined them. "Bring the bar, Finnely."

"Yes, sir."

Rogue watched, almost detached completely, as one of her arms was freed. Even if she had the strength to resist, her arm was quickly restrained once more to a rubber bar resembling an armrest. Straps of the strange metal were latched around her upper arm, elbow, and wrist.

She'd seen the bar before. They'd used it on other mutants who were particularly difficult to make it easier to control them when forcing them to touch her. They'd never made her absorb anyone quite as strong as the blonde woman appeared to be though, which explained the weird metal.

Maybe it was adamantium, Rogue thought tiredly.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the two tables began to inch towards each other. Rogue watched the woman strain against her restraints with as much energy as she could manage. It didn't do any good though.

"Raise Subject 56399's arm," Kern instructed.

Finnely raised the armrest and unfolded two metal rods that hooked onto the exam table, effectively propping up her arm so she was reaching straight out. Her fingers dangled over the edge of the bar just a little, and if she moved them at all she was sure they'd graze the blonde's bare arm.

"What's going on?" the woman asked suspiciously. "What is this?"

Kern ignored her, just as he'd ignored Rogue multiple times before. "On my count, move Subject 56399 forward one inch further and be prepared with the cord."

Cord? Rogue frowned. That was new.

"1...2...Now!"

Her table suddenly lurched forward and her hand instantly rammed into the woman's arm. Rogue watched the now familiar display of shock contort the woman's face. Half a second later an explosion of images filled her head. She was only vaguely aware of the metallic cord being wrapped around her hand and the woman's arm, attaching her to the blonde completely.

"Three seconds..." Finnely stated. "3.5..."

 _Carol Danvers_.

The name was there in her head. For a second she couldn't distinguish Rogue from Carol.

"4.5..."

Rogue pushed through Carol's memories and focused on what was in front of her. All she saw was the woman's face in front of her. It was contorted in wide-eyed shock and pain. Her struggling faded to a few tremors.

"Five seconds..."

"S-stop," Rogue whispered hoarsely.

"5.5..."

She tried to pull away, but her hand was stuck. She couldn't move. She had Carol's strength, her powers, but the modified restraints didn't budge. As powerful as they both were, it didn't seem to matter. They were powerless.

"Six seconds..."

Something didn't feel right. Something was _wrong_. Rogue wasn't sure if she screamed or if Carol did or if it was both of them. She wasn't even sure if it was real or in her head.

"6.5..."

"Do not break contact!"

"No!" She didn't hear her voice, just the thundering of her own heart in her ears. Her body felt electric, like a thrumming of energy rushing through her veins, but the chaotic and tangled mess in her head was overwhelming.

Carol's eyes had long since closed, her head lulled forward to the point her chin nearly touched her chest. Rogue wasn't even sure if the woman was still alive. A loud noise cut through the buzzing in her head.

"Subject is flat-lining!"

"Eight seconds..."

Something in her head exploded.

 _Dead. I'm dead_.

"Break contact!"

Finnely didn't need to bother though.

Rogue wrenched her arm away. Pain erupted in her hand and traveled up her wrist. She summoned all her strength and yanked her arm again. The arm bar snapped off from the table and her arm, still attached to the bar, flew upwards.

Her breath caught in her throat as memories not her own filled her senses. Her head hurt so badly she couldn't see straight. The pain was blinding...excruciating...like nothing she'd felt before.

She felt something sharp being stuck into her neck, and soon her muscles relaxed. She welcomed the darkness as she sunk into unconsciousness.

* * *

A/N: So what did you think?


	14. Shattered

Disclaimer: Still don't own X-Men.

A/N: Well, here we are. This chapter will switch back and forth between Rogue's POV and Logan's. I wanted to once again say thank you for reading and reviewing! This story is far from over, and I hope you all enjoy what's still to come. Also, just a note that the Ms. Marvel in this fic is based off the 90's X-Men Animated Series. Warning: Brief description of injuries.

* * *

' _Please leave me alone.'_

' _I'm dead.'_

' _I'm sorry_!'

Rogue clenched her eyes closed tightly and held her head between her hands as the mental battle of wills persisted. Carol wasn't leaving, she wasn't fading like all the others had. It was like having a fully formed person in her head instead of a shadow.

' _I_ _ **am**_ _a person!'_ Ms. Marvel screamed.

' _You're just in my head_.'

Carol didn't like that answer apparently. A stabbing pain shot through her temples in response. Rogue wasn't sure why Kern had forced her to absorb someone like Carol. The woman was powerful, more powerful than any of the others she'd had to absorb the last...however long it'd been. A month? A year maybe? It felt like years.

 _'The idiot got too cocky.'_

 _'Shut up already_!'

It was too much. She was having a hard enough time dealing with all the forced absorptions, the physical pain, and the fact she was going to die in this cell or on an exam table. She didn't need Carol making it worse.

 _'You killed me_.'

 _'I'm sorry_!'

She might have cried if she didn't feel so numb inside. The only thing filling the empty void was Carol ranting and blaming her for her death, and the guilt that went with it. Limpy could walk through the door right now and hold a gun to her head, and she probably wouldn't lift a finger to stop him. At least then the pain would stop.

 _'You're pathetic_.'

 _'I know_.'

Rogue laid down, her bruised cheek stinging against the cold floor, and closed her eyes again. A cough tore through her chest and sent a burning jolt through her injured side. She needed to sleep. Maybe she would wake up and it would all have been a nightmare.

Just as she finally managed to doze off a loud _thud_ startled her awake. She didn't sit up though, only opened her eyes and stared at the door. She wasn't going to get her hopes up that it was another rescue. She wasn't going to delude herself into thinking the X-Men would barge through the door any second. They'd left her here to die, which was probably exactly what she deserved. No, they weren't coming for her.

Another loud noise met her ears, but she still just stared blankly. It was probably just the guards getting more prisoners ready for transport. They were all supposed to be packed up and moved soon. She closed her eyes, not caring in the least. Everything she'd had left was gone now. They could do whatever they wanted.

Eventually the door to her cell rattled and screeched, but she didn't have the energy left to open her eyes again. Another loud thud, the loudest yet, echoed through the small room as the door was flung open. A bright light lured her into opening her eyes, and what she saw nearly made her heart stop altogether.

It was Logan.

His face loomed over her, and a second later he was joined by others. Kurt and Storm, she realized. Kitty stood a little ways back, her eyes wide. Her gaze lazily flickered to the door and she saw Scott staring at her, unmoving. Jean was just outside the door, facing away.

How many times had she wished she could wake up and find them there? Too many, but not in awhile. She'd given up and simply didn't care. They probably weren't even real. She'd finally just lost what sanity she'd had. It was a hallucination. A cruel hallucination.

"Stripes?"

Rogue stared ahead, her eyes fixed on a random spot on the wall. It wasn't real. The X-Men weren't coming for her. She was alone.

"What's wrong with her?"

Gloved fingers gently touched her face as she was turned over onto her back. The touch was so gentle tears almost filled her eyes. Almost, but not quite.

' _I want my body back!'_

' _I don't know where it is.'_

' _You killed me!'_

"I'm sorry." Rogue didn't even realize she'd said it aloud. She stared up at Logan's furious expression.

He knew. He knew what she'd done and was angry. Even her own hallucination couldn't stand her. She closed her eyes, blocking out the looks of anger and disgust.

* * *

Logan made a run for the door down the hall. The swamp rat might be a slippery weasel in his book, but he'd given half-decent descriptions of the layout of this place. If he was right, then Rogue's cell was here. He swiped at a wayward guard who had managed to get away from Jean and then continued on his way.

The others were freeing prisoners on their way while taking care of the remaining guards. Security had been lax. Logan doubted they'd been expecting another attack so soon after the last. The fact they were in the process of packing up to move had helped too.

He reached the door and attempted to slice through it. His claws left deep marks on the metal, but the door was thicker than he'd thought. It would take time. Time he didn't have. "Cyclops!" he called since the others were still dealing with other cells.

Scott was there in the blink of an eye and didn't even ask what he needed. He focused his sights on the door hinges and soon they began to melt away. It was all Logan needed. Before the hinges were even fully removed he rammed his enter body into the door. It burst open, flying backwards until it hit the inside wall.

Logan squinted as he stared inside the dimly lit cell. A reeking odor hit his senses just as his eyes fell on the small form laying on the ground facing them.

Rogue.

He rushed inside and fell to his knees at her side. There was a large bruise around her eye, her jaw looked swollen and bruised as well, and there were a couple of scratches along her forehead and cheek. The start of a gash was above her other eye, but it disappeared from view where that side of her face was against the floor. Even her lip looked like it had been split open at one point. He glanced over the rest of her, looking for any signs of bleeding that needed to be taken care of immediately. He could smell blood, and there were stains of it on her clothes and bandages, but he didn't see anything bleeding at the moment.

His heart nearly stopped as his fingers inched towards her neck to check for a pulse. Just as his gloved fingers were about to graze her neck her eye fluttered open though. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes found him and he knew instantly they'd drugged her, just like Gambit had warned. She looked tired and warn out, but it was the pain lingering in her eyes that nearly pushed him over the edge.

He wanted someone to pay for this, and he wanted to be the one to make them pay.

The others joined him, but he couldn't tear his eyes off the girl in front of him. He heard Kitty gasp, heard Storm mutter something under her breath, and felt Kurt shaking next to him.

The kid looked bad.

It was then that he realized Rogue wasn't looking at them any longer. She stared at something, probably nothing, and ignored them. He wasn't sure she was even really coherent enough to recognize them. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Stripes?" he said, attempting to get her attention. Her gaze didn't even flicker in his direction. She barely even blinked.

"What's wrong with her?" Kurt asked, sounding slightly panicked.

There was probably a lot wrong with her. Things they couldn't even see right now.

Before they could deal with any of that, they had to get her out of here though. Carefully, hoping not to cause her anymore pain, Logan began turning her over onto her back and off her side. As he did so, Storm held the girl's head to help make the movement go more smoothly, and cause Rogue as little discomfort as possible.

Ororo's hands lingered a moment longer before she moved back. Though the unseeing look in Rogue's eyes didn't change, she actually made a soft, barely audible, sound at the loss of contact. Almost like a wounded infant missing its mother's tender touch. The sound sent a stabbing pain through Logan's heart that just made him all the more angry at the people who had done this to his Stripes.

"I'm sorry," Rogue suddenly said, her voice broke and wavered and came out as barely more than a strained whisper.

She looked straight up at him, and Logan felt his blood boil. _She_ was sorry? She had nothing to apologize for. Nothing. And yet here she was, broken and abused, and she was apologizing. Logan wasn't even sure who she was apologizing too. Whoever it was didn't deserve it.

He wanted to rip out the throat of whoever had done this.

When her eyes closed he released a haggard breath. He was going to get her out of here, then he would hunt down the people responsible. For now he focused on getting the shackles off her wrists. "Shadowcat," he summoned, lifting Rogue's hands. "Think you can..."

Kitty was at his side in a instant and reaching towards the chain that connected the cuffs. A second later they slid through Rogue's wrists. "Her wrist!" Kitty exclaimed, sounding slightly horrified at the sight. She tossed the restraints away with disgust.

Logan studied the hand in question. It was bloodied, and her wrist was raw, swollen, and disfigured. He wouldn't be surprised if it were broken. Her left hand was wrapped in a blood stained bandage, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know why.

"Let's go," he barked out. He folded the blanket Rogue was on over her to cover her bare arms and legs before gently gathering the girl in his arms. He wasn't ready to trust anyone else to carry her.

He felt both a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as well as a raw fury upon realizing she had at least one broken rib. He could feel it through the thin blanket. He'd barely made it to the door when Jean threw out a hand towards something down the hallway.

"We have company!" she said just before a _bang_ echoed down the corridor from where the red-head had thrown someone into a wall.

Logan scowled as he stepped out into the corridor with the others. At least a dozen guards were heading their way. He shared a look with Storm before she took off to lead the way. They'd been up against worse. He clutched Rogue to his chest and glanced down at her. He'd never seen her look so small and fragile before. More like the child she'd never gotten to be, instead of the tough Rogue he knew her to be.

"Don't worry, Stripes," he muttered as the others easily took care of the threat. "We're gettin' you out of here."

* * *

"Don't worry, Stripes. We're gettin' you out of here."

The words barely registered, but what little got through almost made her feel...safe. A few little sounds of pain escaped as she was jostled about. Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. Being alive hurt.

"We can't get out that way! It's blocked!"

She thought she heard Scott, but the voices blended together with the ones in her head.

"Where are all these guys coming from?" Kitty questioned.

Rogue didn't open her eyes, but she gritted her teeth when an abrupt lurch set her side on fire.

 _'You deserve it_ ,' Carol said bitterly.

 _'I know_.'

"Gonna have to put you down for a minute, Stripes," she heard someone whisper just before her back was once again on something solid.

A familiar _skink_ sound reached her ears before someone grunted and fell to the floor nearby. As the noise around her escalated she felt herself being pulled deeper into sleep. She couldn't resist it.

"This might have worked the first time," a gruff voice suddenly said. It sent a feeling of dread washing over her. "But it won't work this time. None of you are getting out of here."

Rogue turned her head and pried her eyes open as far as they would go, which wasn't much. Standing just a few feet away was Brax. He was facing away from her, apparently not considering her a threat in her current state, and facing the X-Men with a gun pointed at Logan.

Other guards stood around as well, all with weapons aimed at the six mutants. Jean had her hands up, and Rogue assumed it was to protect them from being shot at. No one was paying her any attention. She felt like a piece of useless trash. A murdering, useless, and toxic piece of trash that no one wanted.

"I don't think keeping all of you as prisoners will be necessary," Brax continued. He sounded...pleased.

Rogue watched through a haze as Brax leveled his gun at Jean. If he fired the bullet probably wouldn't get through the barrier she was projecting, but she could only keep it up for so long. They were outnumbered and cornered. Eventually someone would wind up getting hurt.

The thought managed to wake her up a bit and helped her focus. Maybe they were real. Maybe they weren't. It didn't matter. Because no matter how much they hated her, how disgusted they were at what she'd done, they were still her family.

And right now her family was being threatened.

It sent a wave of fury through her. She focused on the anger, she clung to it like it was an anchor, and used it to keep herself grounded. She summoned all the strength she had left. No one was going to hurt her family as long as she was alive to stop it.

She heard the cock of a gun, and that was enough.

She flew upwards and straight at Brax, grabbed him under the arms, and threw him straight into the opposite wall. He slid to the ground, leaving behind a head sized dent in the wall.

The X-Men now behind her stared in shock, and the guards froze, not knowing what to do now that Brax was unconscious. Only then did it dawn on her that she was in the air. Flying. She was _flying_.

 _'Those are my powers_!' Carol's voice boomed in her head. _'You stole them_!'

An excruciating pain ripped through her skull.

She crashed to the floor while clutching her head, the pain traveling up and down her body until it was all she was aware of. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. Yet another level of pain she'd never experienced, and one she just wanted to stop. Tears sprang to her eyes, but went unnoticed.

 _'Please...just...stop_ ,' she begged.

 _'Not till you're dead_.'

She couldn't think, couldn't comprehend the blurry figures gathering around her, and suddenly she couldn't even remember her name.

Everything went dark as she finally lost the battle.


	15. Watching and Waiting

Disclaimer: Seriously? I need to say it again? Fine. I don't own the X-Men.

A/N: Ok, guys. So I'm going to try and get another chapter up tomorrow, but if I don't it'll probably be a few days before the next chapter is posted. Don't worry, this story is completely written, so it will be posted in full. Unfortunately, it's possible I could lose power for awhile, so I wanted to give you all a heads-up. Until then...

* * *

"Thank you so much."

Logan glanced at the watery-eyed smiling woman who he realized was talking to him this time. Her younger brother, no more than four or five years older than Jean, had been one of the prisoners they'd freed and brought back to the mansion for medical care. "No problem," he grunted out before looking back through the glass doors of the med-lab while Charles continued the conversation.

Rogue was the only remaining patient now, and she had yet to wake up. He wanted to be in the chair he'd sat next to her bed, the same chair he always sat in when she found her way into the med-lab, but Chuck had insisted he step away long enough to see their last visitor and his sister off.

"Is she...going to be alright?"

Logan tore his eyes away from Rogue again, this time to look at the brother. Until now, the guy hadn't said more than two words since being here. He'd noticed how the man would glance at Rogue though, as if uneasy and not really sure what to do about it.

"You mean her?" Logan asked, nodding sharply to the unconscious teenager.

The younger man nodded as his sister squeezed his arm comfortingly.

His eyes flickered to Rogue automatically. She was even paler than usual, and what wasn't covered by clothing was covered by bandages. Contusions, broken ribs, broken wrist, a badly sprained ankle, torn knee muscles, some numbers branded into the back of her neck, small little circles left by what Logan assumed were amped-up tasers, and entire patches of skin just...gone. Her jaw was still swollen, but Hank had assured him it wasn't broken or dislocated. The gash along her forehead had been partially stitched up, but was still red and puffy. Her right hand had required even more stitches. It had looked to Logan like some kind of wire had sliced through her skin. The kid was lucky it hadn't cut an artery. That entire hand and wrist was a mess though, and Hank seemed concerned about nerve damage. The start of bronchitis on top of it all didn't help matters either.

So was she alright? No, she wasn't.

Logan narrowed his eyes out of habit as he studied the guy. Why would he care anyway? He'd never asked about the other two prisoners they'd briefly had in the med-lab. "What's it to ya?"

Charles gave him a sideways look that clearly said 'be nice', but he ignored it.

The former prisoner shifted uncomfortably and refused to look anyone in the eyes. "They took...everything from me. Blood, x-rays, head scans, even bone marrow..."

Logan made a noncommittal noise when the guy trailed off distractedly. According to Hank, Rogue had a puncture wound that he was pretty sure was the result of bone marrow removal. Apparently she wasn't the only one.

"But she," the man continued. "She took something else. I can't explain it. I'm not even sure what it was, or how, or..." He looked up with confusion clearly written on his face. "All I know is that they made me touch her, and then I just...passed out."

Logan clenched his hand into a fist at his side. They'd forced Stripes to absorb people. She hated doing it when it was her own choice, but to make her do it...

And just how many more of the prisoners they'd released would have a similar story to this guy?

"Yes," Charles answered as Logan went back to staring at the kid inside the med-lab. "That is Rogue's mutation. She can absorb the memories and powers of other people."

The sister seemed a little startled. "Permanently?"

Logan caught Chuck's eye and they shared a look for a moment. He quickly went back to his monitoring though, as Charles answered. "Not usually."

Logan scoffed. Not usually, but apparently it could happen. Hank had explained how much...tougher Rogue's skin seemed to be. They'd all seen her fly and grab a man three times her size before tossing him into a wall like nothing more than tissue paper. And the day before she'd become restless, thrashing all over the place while still unconscious, and had snapped a bed railing in half.

He missed most of the conversation, but what finally snapped him out of his thoughts was the brother speaking again.

"I don't blame her," he said softly. "She was restrained, just like me, and...Could you let her know I don't blame her?"

"Of course. I'm sure she will be relieved to hear that," Charles replied.

Charles escorted them out soon after that, and as soon as they were out of sight Logan walked straight back to his chair and slumped down into it. After a few minutes of silent vigil he leaned forward and gently covered Rogue's bandaged left hand with his own gloved one. Hank had told him there was a small area on her palm where the skin had been removed, but it wasn't as bad as the others. Logan stared at her hand though, took in the sight of the bandage and the still raw skin around her wrist where she'd been restrained for so long, and knew it didn't matter how big the wound was. It was there, she was hurt, and he couldn't let that go.

No one should do this to another person. And especially not Stripes.

"Logan..."

He wrapped his fingers around the much smaller hand as Charles joined him. "Yeah?"

"Don't forget that tonight is Kitty and Kurt's graduation ceremony."

It was supposed to be Rogue's too, but no one seemed willingly to mention that. Everyone was thinkin' it, and the somber atmosphere in the mansion proved that most of them wouldn't really be enjoying the event, but no one had brought up the topic.

He grunted. "I remember."

Had it really only been two weeks ago that he'd asked her if she was excited about graduating? Or that she'd teased him about having stickers stuck to him thanks to Kitty's decorating mania? Everything had been going smoothly.

" _Let's face it, Logan_ ," she had said. " _Has anything 'normal' happened around here? Ever? Look at Scott and Jean's graduation. Something will go wrong_."

She'd been right, he realized. Something had gone horribly wrong, and she was the one to suffer. Instead of celebrating, instead of talking Kitty into throwing confetti at him, and instead of feeling the excitement of a normal teenage girl for once...Rogue was unconscious and hurt and they had no idea why she wasn't waking up.

No, he didn't want to leave her side. Not now. Probably not ever after all this. He didn't feel like celebrating. Most of them didn't.

"Logan," Charles said with a tired sigh. "I understand how you feel. However, we cannot afford to ignore the positive things in life. Especially not now, when we need it most. I would like you to be there tonight."

He almost growled out of frustration. It wasn't a request, it was one of Chuck's polite and subtle 'listen and do what I say, Logan' phrases. He didn't want Rogue to wake up alone though.

"Hank will be staying here with her," Charles said as if reading his mind, which he probably had. "Kitty and Kurt need this, Logan. After his parents left for the evening last night, Kurt started tearing down decorations."

Logan had actually forgotten about those things still being up. They'd just blended into the background the last couple weeks. "Kitty won't be happy when she finds out," he said amusedly.

"Kitty let him."

He frowned and looked away from Rogue for a minute. "She let him?"

"It was Storm who stopped him from completely dismantling the house."

"Hmph."

"Exactly. You see, Logan, they need this. We all do. It is only a couple of hours," he added before wheeling himself towards the exit. "I am sure Rogue will be fine until you return."

Once he was gone, Logan sighed and lowered his head to stare at the floor. He was in a house full of emotionally troubled teenagers with superpowers, and the adults didn't seem to be doing so great lately either. "Why do I stick around this place," he muttered to himself.

There were a lot of ways to answer the question really. Nothing else to do, they needed him, it was almost comfortable...but the easiest and most obvious example of why he stuck around was currently laying on the bed in front of him.


	16. Taking Over

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own X-Men.

A/N: Okay, one more chapter for the weekend.

* * *

 _'_ _I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!' Rogue screamed in her head._

 _She couldn't get out of her own head. She was stuck, trapped by an angry Carol Danvers who wanted to destroy her._

 _'Sorry isn't good enough!'_

 _'If I could help you I would! If I could take it back, I would! I didn't want to hurt you.'_

 _'You mean kill me!'_

 _'Please, just leave me alone.'_

 _'If I can't have my body back, then I'll just take yours.'_

 _'What?'_

 _Everything went dark before she felt herself falling further and further as the darkness closed in on her. She felt like she was suffocating. Everything that felt like...her...faded away. She couldn't hold onto the last few strings of control she had. She felt herself slipping, and the control over Carol with it. Everything mixed and mingled and merged until Rogue was buried underneath it all, lost in the chaos and overpowered. Rogue was gone._

 _'I am Carol Danvers.'_

* * *

Kurt couldn't stop the smile that stretched across his face. An hour ago he'd barely been able to force one. He had tried for his parents, but he hadn't really felt it. Thoughts of Rogue kept him from being excited, and even now he felt guilty for being happy while his sister was unconscious.

Now the ceremony was over he felt more relaxed though. Everyone else seemed to have loosened up as well. Even Logan had a barely noticeable half-smile as they headed up the steps of the Institute.

"I'm so full," Scott said, rubbing his stomach and sounding a little miserable.

"I've never seen you eat that much pizza before," Jean said in return with a little bit of a laugh.

A couple of weeks ago they'd planned on having a big feast at the mansion after the ceremony with all of his, Kitty's, and Rogue's favorite foods, but no one had felt like cooking the last few days. So instead they'd all gone out for pizza afterwards. His and Kitty's parents had seemed to understand and gladly joined them at the makeshift party before they'd had to head to the airport. Many of the other students from the Institute had crowded into the small pizza shop as well for awhile, but by the end it was only the seven of them.

It should have been eight, but one of them was still unconscious.

Kurt felt another pang of guilt squeeze at his heart and his smile slipped a little.

"Don't worry, Kurt," Jean whispered to him as they entered the mansion, as if reading his mind without actually reading his mind. "We'll throw Rogue a party when she wakes up."

Logan closed the door behind them, and all the chatting and the buzz of excitement suddenly stopped as the Professor came to an abrupt halt. Kurt watched as he closed his eyes and pressed two fingers to his temple.

"Charles?" Storm asked after a few seconds of them all standing there in uncomfortable silence.

"Hank needs us in the med-lab," he answered simply, already maneuvering himself towards the elevator.

Logan followed without a moment's hesitation and beat the professor to the elevator.

Kurt felt his stomach drop and his heart race. "Is it Rogue?" he asked.

The look on the Professor's face said it all.

"Kurt, wait!" the Professor said, but it was too late.

A split-second later Kurt found himself standing in the med-lab, and the sight before him made him freeze and his eyes widen. "Rogue?"

His sister was kicking and screaming weakly as Mr. McCoy tried to keep her in the bed. At the sound of his voice she opened her eyes, and Kurt could only stare. Her eyes were clouded, as if not really coherent, but there was a fury behind them that he'd never seen before, even at her most angry.

Kitty was the second to arrive, followed closely by Logan and then the others. By the time everyone arrived it was clear Mr. McCoy was having a lot of trouble keeping Rogue subdued, and the only reason he was having any success at all was because she was still only half-awake.

Before anyone could do anything, Rogue screamed louder. It was a scream of pure agony, and something Kurt would never forget. It tore through her throat and mixed with a choked sob. Seconds before she slumped to the bed, Kurt caught her eyes again. They were filled with pain and sadness, as if she were giving up altogether.

"What just...

Before Kitty could even finish the sentence Rogue shot out of bed. _All the way_ out of bed, up towards the ceiling, and then came back down to stand on her own two feet with the bed between her and the rest of them. The hard glare she leveled at them wasn't like Rogue's normal glare. It was a clear threat, a look of loathing, instead of just a warning to stay away. Her left hand clenched at her side as she looked them over, daring anyone to come near her.

"You alright there, Stripes?" Logan finally asked, sounding tense.

She only glared more.

"Rogue?" Kurt took a step towards her, wanting to help.

"Rogue's gone."

The icy tone sent a feeling of dread down Kurt's spine.

"If Rogue is gone, then may I ask who you are?" the Professor asked calmly, wheeling forward a little more.

"She killed me," Rogue stated vehemently.

"What is your name?"

Rogue hesitated before answering. "Carol Danvers. Your little friend killed me, so I've taken her body. Don't try to stop me."

"Carol Danvers..." The professor nodded. "Yes, the mutant we found. You were a prisoner along with Rogue."

That seemed to throw Rogue…or Carol...whoever it was...off for a moment. Something flashed across her face, but Kurt couldn't tell what it meant. "You found my body?"

"You are not dead, Ms. Marvel. You are, however, in a coma with no sign of brain activity. You were taken to the hospital since we were unable to properly care for you here."

Rogue's eyes hardened again. "You're lying. You just want me to leave your friend alone, but that's not going to happen. She killed me. I'll kill her."

 _Skink_.

He didn't have to look to see that Logan had taken the threat very seriously. "Please, don't!" Kurt exclaimed without thinking. His heart was racing and he was confused and he just wanted his sister back. "Please?"

"If you kill her, you will die as well," Storm pointed out.

"At least I know I'll have taken her with me." With that she started to fly upwards, but then abruptly stopped and held her head between her hands with a startled cry.

"Looks like Rogue is giving you a bit of a hard time," Logan commented proudly.

"This will not solve anything," the Professor continued. "Rogue did not kill you. She was forced to absorb your mind and powers against her will. You cannot punish her for something she did not intend to do, and had no control over doing."

Carol looked up at them in Rogue's body, a trickle of blood coming from her nose. "Watch me."

Logan lunged towards her, but she flew out of the way before heading straight for the Professor. Jean threw up a barrier just in time, and sent Rogue flying backwards into the wall. She slid to the floor, and when she opened her eyes again there was wide-eyed fear instead of hate.

"I'm sorry! I can't...hold her..."

It was Rogue! His schwester! Kurt started to rush over, but Logan's arm shot out to keep him back.

"You must fight her, Rogue," the Professor instructed.

"I can't! She's too strong. I...can't...she..." Her eyes suddenly glazed over seconds before she screamed and flew upwards. She shot upwards so quickly, and with so little control, that her head hit the ceiling with a resounding ' _thud_ ' and she fell back down again, leaving a dent in the ceiling.

As she picked herself up from the floor she laughed, but it wasn't Rogue laughing. It was a deranged, bitter laugh that made Kurt's fur stand on end.

The laughter suddenly stopped though, and Rogue's eyes went wide and unseeing. She went limp a second later, and the only thing that kept her from hitting her head against the bed was Logan reaching out and grabbing her in time.

Kurt looked over to find the Professor's eyes closed tightly and his fingers pressed against his temples. He almost breathed a sigh of relief at the sight. The Professor was in Rogue's mind. He would help her. She would be okay.

But then Professor jumped slightly and his eyes flew open. "This will...take some time," he said, and Kurt felt his hope fading all over again. "I would like you all to leave, please."

Kurt started to protest, and he wasn't the only one.

Logan practically growled as he carefully placed Rogue back into bed. "I'm stayin," he stated firmly.

Apparently sensing it was a battle he wouldn't win, or maybe just not thinking it worth the effort, the Professor relented. "Very well. You may stay, Logan. I may need your help anyway. The rest of you, please go upstairs."

Kurt watched Rogue breath heavily, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. She twitched, and a pained whimper escaped her lips. He couldn't just leave her now. "But she's my sister."

The Professor moved closer to her bed. "Yes, Kurt, I know. And if you wish her to remain your sister and not Carol Danvers, than you need to leave so I can concentrate."

A firm hand on his arm started dragging him away, and as much as he wanted to struggle he finally just gave in and let Scott lead him out of the room. Jean followed after them while Hank ushered Kitty out the door as well. They retreated upstairs to the lounge, and fell into a somber silence.

It was going to be a long night.


	17. Rogue's Fight Pt 1

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own X-Men.

A/N: Well, I have electricity back. So here's a new chapter and since it's so short (and since you guys are so awesome) I'll post the second part of it tonight as well. As always, thank you all so much for taking the time to read this story!

* * *

 _Rogue huddled into a corner of the closet. It was dark and quiet. As empty as she felt. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten here, and sometimes she wasn't even sure who she was. She was confused. Sometimes she couldn't distinguish past from present, reality from imagination. All she knew was that it was safe here. No one could touch her here. No one could hurt her._

 _"Rogue?"_

 _Had someone found her?_

 _"Rogue, please listen to me."_

 _She knew that voice. She wasn't sure how, but she did._

 _"Anna Marie..."_

 _She jumped at the name. She hadn't heard it in...how long had it been? "Who are you?" she asked._

 _The darkness seemed to shift somehow. The closet walls twisting into odd patterns._

 _"I am Charles Xavier. Your friend."_

 _"Professor?" Yes, she knew that voice. It all clicked back into place now. She was Rogue, and he was the professor._

 _"Carol Danvers has not yet detected my presence, but she will soon."_

 _Rogue watched as the Professor suddenly appeared in front of her. "I killed her," she told him._

 _"You were forced to absorb Ms. Marvel, Rogue. It was not your fault. You need to concentrate and regain control."_

 _She looked at the four inky black walls surrounding them. Something told her that there was trouble outside. Creeps...Kern...Mystique...they were waiting for her. Just outside the closet. If she left then it would start all over. "If I leave here, then they'll hurt me again."_

 _"There is no one to hurt you, Rogue. We are inside your own mind. What happens here is up to you."_

 _Tears gathered in her eyes. "I'm not strong enough, Professor. I can't take the pain anymore."_

 _"You have survived, Rogue, and you will continue to survive. There are people waiting for you to get better. Your friends. Your family."_

 _Their surroundings suddenly morphed into a different room. A dirty room with beer stains and cigarette smoke. Her father glared at her with so much hatred...he raised a hand as if to slap her..._

 _Her father faded along with the room, and they were soon back in the safety of the closet. She had a feeling the Professor was responsible._

 _"Your real family, Rogue. People who care about you and love you."_

 _"Love me?" her voice cracked and the inky walls turned into stone. "But I'm the Rogue. Subject 56399."_

 _"You are loved. Do not give up, Rogue."_

 _"Why didn't you come for me?" She pressed herself further into a corner. Familiar shackles appeared on her wrists. "Why did you leave me here?"_

 _"You are free now. We did come for you. Logan carried you out himself."_

 _A memory flashed before them, but it was gone too quickly for her to grasp onto._

 _"Please, Rogue. Help me rid you of Carol. Let me help you."_

 _"I killed her. I deserve this, Professor. She..she can have my life."_

 _"There is more at stake than that. She could harm the others."_

 _A happily smiling blue face ghosted across her memory. "Kurt?"_

 _"Yes. Him and the rest of us who care about you. Because we will not stop fighting for you, Rogue. She will have to kill us, if she wishes to kill you."_

 _"I don't want her to hurt anyone."_

 _"Than help me."_

 _"How?"_

 _"Let down these barriers, Rogue. Leave the room."_

 _She concentrated, and slowly the stone walls returned to the blank inkiness, and eventually those too faded away. She wasn't sure where she was. She still felt lost. But the Professor smiled at her. She must have done something right._

 _Carol Danvers suddenly appeared though, looking as furious as ever. "It's not that easy!"_

 _The woman flew towards the Professor, grabbed him by the shoulders, and Rogue watched in horror as he disappeared._

* * *

Charles abruptly returned from Rogue's mind with a jolt. He breathed heavily for a moment.

"Well?" Logan asked. "How's Rogue?"

"She is...still not in control. The presence in her mind is fully formed. She absorbed all of Ms. Marvel's personality. They are fighting for dominance, and it will not be easy to dislodge her."

"What are you going to do, Charles?" Storm asked from the other side of Rogue's bed.

"I am going to make another attempt."

Logan and Ororo shared a look as Charles closed his eyes again. The seriousness of the situation wasn't lost on them, and Charles didn't have to explain what would happen if he failed.

Rogue's head tossed back and worth, and Logan caught the scent of fresh blood. Looking down, he carefully uncurled her left hand to find the bandage over the patch of missing skin stained with blood.

And still that was the least of their worries.


	18. Rogue's Fight Pt 2

Disclaimer: See all the previous chapters.

A/N: And here's part two. More to come soon!

* * *

 _Rogue felt like she was falling...somewhere. She didn't know where to. Every time she got her footing the surroundings would change again._

 _"You will be happy here, Rogue. Happy and safe," Principle Darkholme assured her._

 _One of her first memories after arriving in Bayville. It was a bitter memory now. As Darkholme transformed into Mystique the anger rose all over again, just as it had the day she'd first learned of the betrayal. The anger was more like a dying flame than a bonfire though. It was overshadowed by her fear and confusion._

 _"Daddy!" She suddenly found herself running after her father's truck. She didn't want to be left alone. She didn't want him to hate her._

 _The scene changed again. This time Apocalypse stared straight at her, his hand holding her wrist so tightly it would probably bruise. A searing pain shot through her skull as he ripped through her mind, tearing away all the personalities and powers she'd been forced to collect for him._

 _"They use you a lot, don't they?" Carol's voice echoed. She almost sounded amused. "They lie to you to get what they want. Your X-Men friends are the same."_

 _The scene changed all over again. This time Kurt was walking away from her. He wouldn't care if she left. He was so angry at her for pushing Mystique off the cliff. She wanted to go after him, but she knew he was right. She didn't deserve his friendship anymore. Maybe she never had._

 _"They'll toss you aside when you're no use to them anymore," Carol continued, her voice whispering over the scene as it repeated itself. "What's the point of going back to that? Just give up. I'll leave you in a nice, safe place. Where no one can hurt you."_

 _"Safe?" Rogue whispered. She watched numbly as Scott left her side to run to Jean's. She'd risked her life to save Jean, but once Jean stopped talking through her, she was left on the sidelines with a pounding headache._

 _"No one will hurt you."_

 _"Don't listen to her, Rogue."_

 _The onslaught of memories faded to black as Professor Xavier suddenly appeared before her. "Professor?"_

 _"She is trying to get you to give up, so that she can take control. She wants you subdued. She is the one trying to use you, not us."_

 _Rogue spun around when she heard an angry yell. Ms. Marvel was there, not far away, banging on an invisible barrier. The Professor was...trying to protect her?_

 _"Yes, Rogue. I am here to help you."_

 _"You were here before."_

 _"Yes."_

 _"But you left." He left. They all left eventually._

 _"I had to leave for a moment, Rogue. I'm sorry. Carol forced me from your mind. I am afraid I won't be able to keep her away for much longer. You are going to have to help me."_

 _"Why?" she snapped bitterly. "So I can go back there?" She pointed and their surroundings automatically shifted into LAB001. Kern stood over her, a scalpel against her side, as she screamed. The scene suddenly faded away again, and Rogue was certain it was the professor's doing._

 _"No. You won't be going back there. We will not let that happen."_

 _"I just want to be left alone."_

 _"Ms. Marvel will not leave you alone, Rogue. Once she is fully in control she will kill you."_

 _"You'd probably be better off without me anyway."_

 _"That is not true. I would not be here if it were. Please, Rogue. Help me."_

 _She didn't feel like it. She didn't want to. But she agreed anyway. "Ok."_

 _The barrier keeping Carol at bay abruptly disappeared. She flew straight towards the Professor. She would kill him if she could. Rogue couldn't allow that._

 _As if on instinct she intercepted the furious blonde. She held onto the woman with all her strength, but she wasn't strong enough to hold on forever._

 _"I am here, Rogue," the professor's voice whispered gently. A warmth washed over her, like a warm blanket being draped over her shoulders. "You can control her."_

 _"You killed me!" Carol screamed, flinging them both around in a circle, neither giving in and neither gaining any ground. "You killed me!"_

 _Rogue felt her grip slipping._

 _"You are not dead, Carol," the Professor suddenly said. "We recovered your body, and took you to the hospital for the care we were unable to give you. You are in a coma, but you are not dead."_

 _Ms. Marvel screamed again as she forcibly shoved her away. A fist followed, and Rogue found herself flying through a void of nothingness._

 _"Liar!" the blonde screamed angrily._

 _Rogue regained her balance in time to see Carol trying to get to the Professor, his own mental barriers kept her from succeeding though. The only part she really saw, however, was the Professor being attacked. She flew through the void until she was close enough to grab the blond around the waist and pull her away. Once again they found themselves spinning in circles. A punch...a kick...but neither one gaining much more control over the other._

 _"This is your mind, Rogue. Lock her away."_

 _She conjured up a cell. Her cell. The concrete box she'd spent way too much time in. The door opened as if beckoning one of them inside._

 _No. She couldn't do that to Carol. She couldn't lock anyone in that cell._

 _She pushed the blonde away with as much force as she could. Ms. Marvel went spinning out of control, and Rogue took the chance to concentrate. She searched their memory...searched Carol's memory...and quickly found what she was looking for._

 _The dark cell faded away, and the black void around them was replaced by a warm, comfortable living room. This was where Carol Danvers felt safe. This was her home. A bedroom door opened, light streaming from inside, and Rogue flew towards Carol._

 _The woman was stunned at the sudden scene change, but was also still fuming. She struggled as Rogue held onto her shoulders from behind._

 _"Yes, Rogue. Good," the Professor encouraged, though Rogue didn't see him anywhere around._

 _"You can't do this to me!" Carol exclaimed as Rogue forcibly moved her towards the open door._

 _The closer they got to the door the more the woman struggled. She wanted to hurt the Professor. She wouldn't hesitate to hurt her friends. The thought gave Rogue a rush of anger, and she embraced it. Anger was familiar, something she could use to her advantage._

 _She clung to the anger, but underneath the fire was something else. If she had to put a name to it, she might call it...love. She used it to regain some strength and held on firmly to the struggling woman, and eventually she felt Carol weakening._

 _"I'm sorry," she said once again before shoving Carol inside the room. The door closed on its own with an echoing 'thud'._

 _The living room faded, once again replaced by the dark void, but the door remained visible. Angry yells echoed around her, fists hammered on the door, but Ms. Marvel wasn't getting out. She was no longer in control._

 _"Well done, Rogue. I'm proud of you." The Professor was in front of her again. Smiling. She couldn't bring herself to smile back though. "Now it is time for you to wake up."_

 _Rogue hesitated. "I'm not sure I'm ready"_

 _"There is no one out there to hurt you, Rogue."_

 _"How can I be sure?"_

 _"The Rogue I know would not allow someone to scare her to the point they control her. She would not allow fear to dictate her actions."_

 _"How do you know I'm still that person?" she asked with a bitter sadness. She certainly didn't feel the same._

 _"Because you were the one who locked Danvers away, not I. You fought her yourself," the professor pointed out._

 _Memories flashed before them. Her father's sneering face shape-shifting into Mystique's sadistic, gleaming eyes. Kern calling her Subject 56399, like she wasn't even worth a real name. Creeps sliding the rod down her body threateningly. Memory after memory of examples of why it wasn't safe. Why living wasn't worth it._

 _"I...I don't think I can. There's nothing left for me out there."_

 _"Rogue..."_

 _"Bye, Professor."_

 _She sent him away, throwing up a mental barrier just as he'd taught her. Once he was gone she retreated back to her closet. In the darkness she could be alone, away from the people who could hurt her and the ones who could break her further._

 _'They'll all be better off without me,' she assured herself._

* * *

Charles opened his eyes to find Logan sitting on the other side of Rogue, his expression tense as he watched the teenager for any sign of movement. Ororo stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed, with a neutral expression. He could see the sadness behind the mask though.

"Charles?" Hank asked, the first to notice he had returned.

Logan looked up sharply. "Well? What happened?"

He sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Rogue is once again in control." He felt more than saw the others relax, and he wished he could leave it at that and allow them to enjoy the relief. Unfortunately, he could not. "I cannot remove the personality completely, however."

"Why not, Charles?" Ororo asked.

"She is too complete of a psyche. It is like two complete, fully formed psyches are occupying the same body. Fortunately, Rogue was able to gain control over her and she is locked away. I will not be able to remove Carol like I did the other personalities though."

"Stripes is stuck with her?" Logan asked. "Forever?"

"That is how it looks at the moment," he answered. "I will research the subject, of course, but for now...as long as Rogue does not let down the barrier keeping Carol Danvers at bay, she should be fine."

"So she'll wake up soon?"

He hesitated, weighing his options on how to answer.

"Charles?" Logan pushed.

"I do not know," he finally admitted. He looked over at the girl, who looked far younger all of a sudden. Rogue had endured much, and even he found himself awed by her strength. The girl was far stronger than she gave herself credit for. He certainly couldn't fault her the need for peace and safety within her own mind.

Ororo and Hank remained silent, both lost in their own thoughts, but accepting the situation.

Logan, on the other hand, was not satisfied with his answer. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"She was not ready to return, Logan. Rogue...has been through a lot over the last two weeks. She retreated further into her mind once Ms. Marvel was subdued. I cannot tell you when she will be ready to return. Or if she ever will be," he added quietly.

Logan plopped back down into his chair and stared at Rogue. Charles knew he felt a special connection with Rogue. A bond of understanding. And though Logan would never admit it, he knew the hardened man loved Rogue like a daughter of his own.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that was exactly what Rogue needed right now as well. She needed to know she wasn't alone, that people cared about her, and that she was needed. She had only defended herself against Carol when she had believed he himself was in danger, whether he had been or not didn't matter. She had believed him to be in danger, and had acted.

Because despite the way she acted, or tried to make people believe, Rogue loved the people in this mansion.

Obviously she did not feel the affection was returned though. And that had turned out to be a problem now. She needed her X-Men family more than ever right now.

"I believe," he began thoughtfully. "That we need to let Rogue know that she is not alone. That we care, and that we are not leaving her. She needs us. All of us."

"How do you suggest we do that, Charles?" Storm asked.

"We talk to her. We tell her how we feel. We simply..." He reached out and gently placed his hand over her bandaged one. "Be here for her."


	19. Come Back

Disclaimer: I absolutely do not own the X-Men. Or anything written by Shakespeare for that matter.

A/N: I wanted to have everyone talk to Rogue, so the next few chapters are going to focus on them trying to support her. Here's the first. I apologize if some of the character voices aren't quite right. I feel like I didn't quite capture some of them. Also, just a note that this chapter takes place soon after the last one.

* * *

Hank smiled sadly as he carefully removed the bandage around Rogue's hand and replaced it with a fresh one. The poor child had suffered much as of late. Everyone residing in the mansion had troubles of one kind or another. There were times he almost overlooked the fact that, in reality, many of them could still be considered children as compared to the adults in the house.

But then one of them would wind up in his care, and he would be forced to see their vulnerability all over again. Rogue seemed to spend half her time in a medical bed it seemed. Perhaps he should have her name engraved on one of the beds, just to make her feel more at home.

Once finished with Rogue's hand he looked up and was not surprised to find Logan staring intently at the girl. However, this time there was a darkness upon his face that rivaled any he had seen the man wear while watching Rogue. Beneath that was an exhausted and deeply worried man though.

"Perhaps it would be prudent if you ate something, Logan," he commented while busying himself with checking Rogue's vitals. "And perhaps a few hours of sleep before you settle into your vigil."

"Not hungry."

Even if he was, Hank knew Logan wouldn't admit it. "And sleep?"

Logan didn't give an answer right away, but eventually he glanced up briefly as if checking to see if he had given up on waiting for an answer. "Not tired," he finally answered.

"You will not do Rogue much good if you put yourself in one of these beds as well, Logan."

"No," he said lowly. It obviously was not meant for him, as much as it was the man talking to himself. "But it might if I put the people who did this in one."

"Ah, yes," Hank began, watching the dark look on Logan's face become tenser. "Revenge. William Shakespeare once wrote it best I believe. _'Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself_ '."

Logan scoffed, but made no other comment.

"Be careful, Logan. Rogue needs you more than she needs revenge."

Hank watched as the other man tensed for a moment, his eyes staring unseeingly at a spot just past Rogue, and then rolled his eyes. With a look of annoyance he rose to his feet. "Chuck's calling," he explained. "Wants me upstairs. If there's any change..."

"I will inform you immediately," he assured him.

Logan cast one last look towards the teenager in the bed before stalking out of the room. Hank smiled after him before turning his attention back to Rogue. "He is not hiding his concern as well these days," he spoke aloud.

There was a theory that patients in comas could hear those speaking to them. Charles seemed to believe it to be true, and perhaps he was right. Perhaps that was exactly what Rogue needed. To hear them, and know she was safe.

"Don't tell Logan I said so, but I am beginning to think you and the others are softening him up." There was no response from Rogue. "I hope you can hear us, Rogue. If you are listening, please know that we are all concerned about you. We'll be here when you are ready to return to us." He gently used a rag to wipe away the lingering sweat along her hairline, which had accumulated while Charles had been in her mind.

He wondered if perhaps this would have happened if the incident with her father had been avoided. Would she doubt herself, and them, so much if she had not had to face those memories she had buried so deep? They had all watched helplessly as she had retreated into herself after that day. When it had persisted he had suspected depression, but as it became clear she was having flashbacks he had thought that perhaps it was something even more. He and Charles had discussed the possibility of PTSD, but that had become a moot point once she had been abducted.

Now maybe the after effects of that encounter were still there, lingering under the surface and combining with the recent trauma. If so, she was in for quite the fight to get back to them. He knew others, much older and more experienced than Rogue, who had suffered and were never quite the person they had been before. Some simply didn't survive at all.

" _'When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions_ '," he said sadly. "Also William Shakespeare. You know that to be a fact, don't you, Rogue? It never seems to be just one trouble for you, but a surge of many troubles all at once. Before you even have the chance to recover from the last one."

The door opening drew his attention away from the unresponsive teenager, and he smiled as best he could at Kurt, who stood a few feet away looking at his adopted sister with a worried expression.

"The Professor said ve should talk to Rogue," Kurt explained. "He said she isn't waking up because she doesn't want to."

A look of utter heartbreak flashed across the boy's features. Kurt was blaming himself, he realized. Blaming himself, as they all probably were, for not clearly communicating their feelings sooner. Now it may well be too late, but he did not dare say so out loud. Kurt and the others needed as much hope as they could get right now.

"A good idea," he settled on saying. "I will leave the two of you alone. If you need anything, I will be in the next room," he added, patting Kurt on the shoulder as he passed.

"Thank you, Mr. McCoy."

* * *

 _Rogue lifted her head from atop her knees when she sensed a presence. Not an inner presence, like the Professor or Carol, but something else. Like someone was nearby, but she couldn't see or touch them._

 _"We are all concerned about you."_

 _Mr. McCoy? Yeah, she recognized the voice. It was a soft echo, as if just behind the door of the closet._

 _"We'll be here when you are ready."_

 _"Ready for what?" she asked, but there was no answer._

 _Silence filled the void and she lowered her head again. He was gone. Just like everyone left eventually. She wasn't worth their time._

 _"You're my sister and I love you."_

 _Her head shot up again and she looked around. It was Kurt._

 _"I miss you, schwester. Come back."_

 _A feeling of warmth fell over her, and she reached for the doorknob, but her hand stilled before she could open the closet door._

 _"Please come back."_

 _"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her hand fell away from the door and she backed up against the inky closet wall again. "I can't. I don't want to hurt anymore, Kurt."_

 _More words echoed around her, but she could barely make them out. She wrapped her arms around her torso and added another layer to her closet. She wasn't leaving. The only thing out there was more pain._

* * *

Kurt slid down into the chair next to Rogue's bed. He wasn't sure what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure how. His sister was giving up. Giving up on them and on herself. What could he possibly say to fix that?

"I'm sorry, Rogue," he finally managed to say. "I wish I could have stopped them from taking you. I wish you vould wake up so I could really talk to you...and...and I wish I hadn't treated you the way I did after you pushed Mystique over the cliff. I never actually said it, but...I did forgive you, Rogue. I never should have been mad in the first place. I vas just..."

He trailed off and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "Is that vhy you're not waking up? Because you think I'm still mad? I'm not. You're more of my family than she ever vas. You're my sister, and I love you. If you wake up I won't assume you know that anymore. I'll tell you ever day until you believe it."

She didn't move, didn't give any sign that she heard him. He looked her over, taking in the bandages and the bruises and how thin and pale she looked. She was slipping away by the second. All because she didn't think she had anyone to come back to. Tears sprang to his eyes, but he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"I miss you, schwester. Come back." He wrapped his hands around her bandaged one and held tightly. Probably too tightly, but he just wanted to make sure she knew he was there. "Please come back." He was begging now and he knew it, but he didn't care. If begging was what it took than he'd do it. "Don't leave us, Rogue."

* * *

 _"Don't leave us, Rogue."_

 _"You don't need me," Rogue said._

 _"Don't leave us," the voice whispered again, this time even softer, as if it were fading away._

 _Her hand tingled and she looked down at it. The pale skin glistened as a tear streaked across it. Was Kurt crying? Why would he cry over her?_

 _The door suddenly opened a crack, not enough to get out, but enough to let the voices in a little more. "Kurt?" she asked, tilting her head to look through the crack. There was no one there though._

 _She settled back against the wall and brought her knees to her chest once more. There was no one out there for her anymore. Maybe there never really had been._

* * *

A/N: "Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot/That it do singe yourself." - Shakespeare; Henry VIII - Act I, Scene I

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions." - Shakespeare; Hamlet - Act IV, Scene V


	20. Retreat

Disclaimer: I absolutely do not own X-Men.

A/N: Next chapter! As always, thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, and adding to alerts/favorites!

* * *

Ororo stepped into the med-lab and paused briefly before walking calmly over to where Logan sat next to Rogue's bed. "Logan..."

He looked up at her, and said nothing.

"Charles told you to get some rest."

He made a non-committal sound and turned his stare back to the girl laying perfectly still.

"He has sent everyone to bed," she informed him.

"It's six in the morning."

"No one slept last night," she told him. After arriving back at the mansion and discovering that Ms. Marvel had taken control of Rogue, no one had felt much like sleeping. Jean, Scott, Kurt, and Kitty had spent most of the night in the lounge simply waiting for news on their teammate and friend. Going to bed hadn't even been as much as a second thought. "Charles wants us all to get a couple of hours sleep at least," she told him.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because we both know you will not leave unless someone is here with her," she pointed out. "I am going to sit with her while you rest. Then I will do the same."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"This is not open for debate, Logan." She narrowed her eyes at the stubborn man. When he didn't move she grabbed the back of the chair and gave it a solid tug backwards to get her point across. "Go."

He sighed and rubbed one hand over his eyes. For a moment she felt he was going to argue some more, but finally he stood tiredly and nodded. "Fine. Two hours, and that's it."

"Very well." It was better than nothing, she figured. "Perhaps you should take a shower while you're at it as well," she added as he passed. Judging by the smell, she wondered if he had taken a shower since they'd rescued Rogue. And that had been three days ago.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered under his breath while heading for the door.

Once the door closed behind him, she moved the chair back to Rogue's bedside and took a seat. "Good morning, Rogue," she greeted. Spotting a pair of latex gloves, she picked one up and pulled it on before brushing some wayward hair away from the girl's face.

For a moment she was reminded of when they had rescued her. Back in the cell, when she had moved Rogue's head as Logan had turned her over, she could have sworn Rogue pressed her cheek into her palm. As if, in her disorientated state, the simple contact had comforted her in some way.

Hoping to give her some measure of comfort again, Ororo gently cupped the girl's face while trying her best to avoid the bruises. "You have become a strong young woman, Rogue," she said. "But then again, you were strong well before you became an X-Man. You have a strength and wisdom beyond your age. And though I have had very little to do with that, I am very proud of you."

After a few seconds she removed her hand and placed it on top of Rogue's hand instead. "You have the heart of a warrior, Rogue. You hide it, but it is still there. And that is why I know you will not give up now. You have survived this long and have stood through all your troubles. You cannot surrender now."

She fell silent and sat back in the chair, but kept her hand over Rogue's. She didn't know what kind of guardian Destiny had been, but judging by what she knew about Rogue she highly doubted Irene to be the tender, loving type of guardian that Rogue had needed.

She remembered a year or so after Rogue had joined them, and she had gotten sick with the flu. She'd grumbled about it, and had taken advantage of the opportunity to skip school, but she had never once expected people to wait on her. In fact, after a particularly sleepless night of coughing for Rogue, she had brought lunch upstairs to her. It had been nothing special. Just broth and crackers. Rogue had looked at her as if she'd had two heads though. Looking back, Storm realized Rogue probably hadn't been accustomed to someone presenting her with such a gesture. She had soothed a sick Evan many times, but Rogue had not had that kind of family.

If Mystique were here now, she would take great delight in forcibly removing the woman from the premises. If Rogue's father were here, he would probably be unable to walk out on his own two feet.

"You deserve better than what you have been dealt, Rogue," she said quietly after an extended silence. "And you deserve a chance to escape, but this is not the way to do it. You must continue to fight. They have not broken you, Rogue," she stated firmly. "You are still strong. And you can recover from this. Even the greatest warriors sometimes need help, and we will help you."

* * *

"I'm surprised Logan's not here," Scott said as he and Jean walked into the med-lab.

"The Professor sent him and Storm to meet with someone from SHIELD," Jean explained.

Scott frowned, wondering why that was necessary right now when Rogue was...in the condition she was in. "Why?"

Jean shrugged as she moved around to the other side of Rogue. A few minutes of silence passed as they both simply watched their younger friend. The sight of Rogue made Scott angry on her behalf, and also incredibly sad. It was heart-wrenching to imagine what she had been through while held prisoner. They only knew so much, since she hadn't been in any condition to give details. The evidence of what she'd endured was clearly visible though.

"What do you think the numbers mean?" he asked, staring at the bandage peeking out from behind her neck.

"Some of the others had it too," Jean said distractedly. "Numbers at least. Not the same ones."

"There were numbers outside the cells too," he said thoughtfully while trying to remember if there had been any outside of Rogue's. "Identification maybe?"

Jean nodded and folded her arms across her chest as if cold.

Scott studied her closely for a moment. The look of deep concentration on her face was shadowed with sadness. "What is it?"

"I just...feel cold."

He glanced between Rogue and Jean with an arched eyebrow. "Are you trying to get into Rogue's head?" It didn't seem like a good idea. In fact it seemed like a dangerous idea. Jean could get hurt in there, considering what the professor had said about Ms. Marvel.

"No," she answered to his relief. "I'm just trying to let her know we're here."

Scott frowned deeply. He wasn't sure how she was doing that without being in Rogue's head, but there were a lot of things he didn't entirely understand about Jean's powers.

"Is that a good idea?" he asked.

Jean looked up at him without answering right away. "She's dying, Scott. No matter how nicely the Professor tried to put it, it still means the same thing."

He looked back at Rogue and swallowed around the lump in his throat. She was right, of course. They'd all understood what the Professor had left unsaid. Rogue might be in control again, but that didn't make her okay. She had been _tortured_. Her physical wounds were bad enough, but she would never overcome them if she didn't want to. And right now it seemed like she just didn't want to.

"She saved my life," Jean continued, once again watching Rogue sadly. "More than once. I never...I never really thanked her last time. I pushed to be her friend and then I gave up. I just want her to know that I still want to be her friend."

"You want her to know that you care," Scott said softly, mostly to himself. "I do too."

Unable to look at Rogue's battered face anymore, he let his eye travel down to her wrist. A little of the swelling had gone down, but it was still obviously broken. "I wonder why they broke her wrist," he found himself saying out loud.

When there was no answer, he looked up. "Jean?" She had both hands on the bedrail and her eyes closed tightly. "Jean?" he asked again.

* * *

 _"You are a warrior."_

 _It felt like an eternity had passed since Storm had spoken to her, but some of the words still echoed softly._

 _"I am very proud of you. You cannot surrender now._

 _"I'm just so tired."_

 _"Even the greatest warriors sometimes need help," the voice whispered again. "And we will help you."_

 _"I've heard that before," she scoffed._

 _The echo faded again, joining all the other vague echoes. Rogue wondered once more where Logan had gone to. She'd heard him once. Something about tearing someone's throat out and being safe. Her jumbled mind couldn't make much sense out of it._

 _With a lurch she realized she was once again not alone, but this time the person felt more real. More tangible._

 _"Rogue, it's okay."_

 _"Jean? I really don't want you here." Anger simmered as she realized Jean was far closer than she wanted. It felt like she was poking at one of the barriers._

 _"Rogue, we're here," the disembodied voice said, as if not hearing what she'd said._

 _"Didn't you hear me? Go away!"_

 _Suddenly the door opened a little more. Jean was there. Sitting just outside. The red-head didn't seem to actually be able to see her though, Rogue realized. She actually looked confused._

 _"You're not alone." It was Jean's voice, but the Jean sitting on the other side of the door didn't move her lips to talk._

 _"No kidding. You're here without asking."_

 _"I wonder why they broke her wrist," Scott's voice whispered._

 _A memory flashed by, filling her senses._

 _She struggled against the restraints. She pulled, and yanked, and screamed as her back arched off the exam table in pain. She wanted it to stop. A sickening crack filled the room. Pain exploded in her wrist and shot up her arm. She couldn't breath as her stomach twisted and churned in response._

 _Rogue gasped and clutched her wrist as the image faded. She felt it all over again. The snapping of the bone as it gave way under the pressure and the explosion of pain. Her heart hammered rapidly._

 _That was what was waiting for her._

 _She wasn't going back._

 _Even though Jean was long gone, she slammed the door of the room shut and added layer after layer to the walls. Her heart felt like it would explode any second. She had to protect herself._

* * *

Jean gasped as her eyes flew open, and immediately clutched her wrist protectively to her chest. Scott was at her side in an instant, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. She felt sick as the mental image flashed through her mind again.

"Jean? What happened?"

"I couldn't find Rogue," she answered shakily. That alone had terrified her. It meant Rogue was buried so deep that she couldn't reach her. "I saw a memory though."

"What memory?"

She let go of her wrist and looked down at it. Her gaze then flickered to Rogue's broken wrist. "She broke it herself."

Scott was clearly more confused than ever. "What?"

"Her wrist. She broke it trying to get free. She didn't even notice at first, Scott. She just wanted to get away so badly, and she was in so much pain." For a second she felt like she would be sick as the sound of the bone snapping filled her ears all over again. It was followed by Rogue's scream, and the corner of her eyes began to sting with unshed tears at the memory.

This was why the Professor had warned her about being careful. She hadn't listened, but now she understood what he meant.

"She..." Scott trailed off, apparently unable to find the right words as the new information sank in.

He didn't have a chance to say anything else though. Rogue's heart rate suddenly picked up pace, so much so that it set off an alarm. Jean watched with widening eyes as Rogue's muscles began to spasm.

Scott released her and started running towards the adjoining room. "I'll get Mr. McCoy."

Mr. McCoy rushed in before Scott even reached the door though. He was followed by the Professor, much to her relief.

Jean stepped back with an apologetic look, and seconds later Scott was at her side again. "Did I do that?" she whispered, terrified that she'd hurt Rogue any more.

"It'll be okay," Scott assured her over the buzz of action and apprehension in the room.

Jean watched as Rogue suddenly went deathly still again. "I'm not so sure it will be."


	21. Flickering Flame

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own X-Men.

A/N: Fifty-five reviews?! You guys are awesome! Thanks, everyone! There's still a few more chapters and a bit more angst to come. For now though...

* * *

Kitty slipped into the med-lab and hesitated when her eyes landed on Rogue. She hadn't been by since after the graduation ceremony, when Carol Danvers had taken control of Rogue. She didn't want to see her friend practically dying before her eyes. The bruises stood out against her pale skin as if trying to remind everyone of the fact Rogue wasn't doing so great.

At least there was less blood, she figured. And the bandages covered the worst parts. It didn't stop her from remembering that moment in the cell though, when she'd first laid eyes on her friend. The smell in the tiny room had been gross, but even that had paled in comparison to how Rogue had looked. Chained up, bloody and bruised, and staring with dead, unseeing eyes. It'd been like something from a horror movie.

Kitty moved closer to the bed and gingerly sat down in the empty chair. She wasn't sure where Logan was, but chances were he'd be back soon. Which meant she only had so long alone with Rogue.

"The Professor said we should talk to you."

It was a lame opening and she mentally berated herself for it. She bit her lip as she watched Rogue. The only sign she was still alive was the slow rise and fall of her chest, and even that Kitty had to really look for to see. "Jean is beating herself up over what happened yesterday. Mr. McCoy said...he said you nearly slipped away, or something like that. The Professor said you buried yourself deeper. Jean didn't mean to hurt you, Rogue. Honestly! She's just worried like the rest of us."

She looked down at her hands in her lap, unable to look at her friend's beat-up, un-moving body anymore. "I'm sorry I haven't been by lately. I just...didn't want to see you like this I guess. It reminds me of when we found you. Back in that cell..." The image of Rogue in that cell flashed through her mind again, and she closed her eyes to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "I haven't been able to sleep. When I do, I see it all over again. So thanks a lot, Rogue, for traumatizing me," she added with a healthy dose of annoyance. Because Rogue would expect nothing less from her.

She huffed and crossed her arms, but the facade quickly slipped. "It was so weird graduating without you. A few weeks ago I had this whole thing planned with you, me, and Kurt finally getting out of that school. I never really imagined that you wouldn't be there. The Professor talked to the principle, by the way!" she added quickly. "He worked it all out, so when you're better all you have to do is take the one finale you missed and you'll get your diploma. So like, you could graduate this summer and then we can have a big party to celebrate to make up for the one we didn't have."

Her grin faded when there was no response from Rogue, even though logically she'd known there wouldn't be one. "You know what else is weird," she said after a few long minutes of silence. "Not having you yell at me to turn down my music. The Professor mentioned like a month ago that he might set us up in separate rooms as a graduation present, and I was like all totally excited, remember? But now I'm not so sure. It's just so weird not having you there."

Another few moments of silence passed as she stared unseeingly at Rogue's broken wrist. She wondered briefly why it wasn't in a cast, but then figured it was probably because of the wounds to her hand and wrist. She shook her head to get rid of the thoughts and continued speaking, hoping Rogue really was listening.

"We've been roommates for like five years and I didn't even know your real name until a few months ago," she muttered sadly. "I'm sorry, Rogue. For not telling you what you mean to me sooner. You're my best friend. And...and even though I complain about having to share a room with you sometimes, I wouldn't actually want to change anything. You showed me how to be strong, even when people are being jerks. I mean...you stood up to bullies for us when they found out we were mutants, but never complained that they were being a bully to _you_ too. Like you just...accepted that they hated you and shoved it back in their faces. You even stood up for Jean before you were an X-Man! I don't know if I could stand up for one of the Brotherhood like that. While, maybe Lance, but definitely not Toad. How did you even stand living in the same house with that guy? I mean...eww."

She bulked at the thought of it. She'd never really asked Rogue what it had been like living with those guys. Maybe a few questions about Lance, but Rogue had always just rolled her eyes or mumbled something that Kitty was pretty sure she didn't actually want to hear.

Rogue could be stubborn and abrasive and closed off, but Kitty never doubted that she would have her back. She understood her friend more now though, and knew her attitude was just to protect herself from getting too close to people who could hurt her.

"I...I really don't want to lose my friend," she said softly. "Maybe it's a little selfish, but I don't want you to stay wherever you are, Rogue. You probably think it's safer and nicer and...and better, but I'm not ready to lose you. None of us are. We'll do whatever you need us to do to make things easier, Rogue, just please...don't give up on us yet. Please?"

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of muffled voices, and saw Logan talking to Mr. McCoy in the hallway outside the med-lab. "Looks like Logan's back," she said, standing slowly from the chair. She looked her friend over one last time, searching for the right thing to say. What would she want to tell Rogue, if this was the last time she ever had the chance to talk to her?

"Thanks, Rogue," she said earnestly. "Just...thanks. For being you."

As tears stung the corner of her eyes again she spun on her heels and made a beeline for the door. She didn't look back, and ignored Logan and Mr. McCoy as they watched her leave. Her heart felt like it was being ripped into teeny tiny shreds.

* * *

Logan watched Kitty escape down the hall, and was suddenly glad Ororo was upstairs. She was better at comforting the kids than he was, and by the looks of everyone in the mansion she'd have her hands full. The only person he'd ever felt half-decent at comforting was Rogue, and even that wasn't exactly enjoyable. He'd always been able to deal with Stripes, but the others seemed a lot more complicated.

"Perhaps you should spend some more time with her, Logan."

At first he thought Hank meant the distraught teenager who'd just left, but when he followed the other man's gaze he found he was watching Rogue, not Kitty. "Chuck seems to think I should give other people time alone with her."

"Rogue is not doing well."

Logan nearly scoffed. That much was pretty clear to him.

"She needs to feel safe. And the two of you have always had a strong bond. If anyone can get through to her, I believe it is you," Hank finished. He sounded almost sad about it. A kind of sad that told Logan that maybe Hank was a little disappointed that he himself didn't have a better relationship with Rogue. "And if not," he continued after a momentary pause. "At least she will be with someone who truly cares about her."

Logan glanced sideways at him. "A lot of people in this house care about her," he pointed out. That much had become very evident the last few days.

"I know that, and you know that, but I am not so certain that Rogue knows that. You on the other hand managed to gain her trust far quicker than the rest of us. I believe now is the time she needs that trust the most."

He didn't give a reply and Hank didn't seem to need one. After a few seconds of just watchin' the kid through the glass, he walked on in and headed for his usual chair.

"Stripes," he greeted as he normally would. "You got a lot of people worried upstairs. You got me worried too," he admitted. "But you're a fighter. You keep catching the curveballs that life throws at ya and throwin' 'em back." He smiled a crooked, proud smile, but felt it fall after just a few seconds.

"You can handle this, Rogue. I know it. Life is hard, that's somethin' we've both known for a long time, but you ain't done yet, kid. If I have to keep on living than so do you. Besides," he added with a smirk. "It wouldn't be the same around here without you."

He watched and waited for some sign that she could hear him, but there wasn't any. She just looked broken. He'd rather see her cry than see this shell of a Rogue. A part of him couldn't accept that she was giving up. That just wasn't like her. She was still his Rogue though, still his defiant Stripes. She wouldn't still be alive if that Rogue fire was really gone.

She'd sacrificed her chance at escape to help the swamp rat. She could have gotten out of there on her own, but she'd given that up in order to save someone who was technically an enemy. He'd seen her fly to their defense during the break-in when she'd thought they were in trouble. If she was completely broken she wouldn't have bothered, he reassured himself.

"Your fire is still in there somewhere," he finally said. "You just gotta find it again. This world ain't all bad, and it's easier when you have people around who care about you. You got some of those, Stripes. More than you think. And maybe we should have told ya that sooner, but it's too late for regrets now. You just gotta take my word for it."

He sat there awhile longer, keeping his silent vigil over her. Kurt came and left, leaving a candy bar on a nearby nightstand, and Chuck stopped by to check on her. Logan didn't budge from his chair though, and no one bothered trying to make him.

When it quieted down again he leaned forward with his arms resting against his legs and narrowed his eyes at the stubborn teenager. "If you wake up," he said flatly. "I'll let you drive my motorcycle. I'll even buy you one of your own if that's what you want."

He waited, not even realizing he was holding his breath, as if that promise would be the magic word that would wake her up.

It wasn't though, and she didn't.

He leaned back in the chair again and ran a hand over his tired eyes. "Damn it, Stripes."

To his surprise, the beeping of the heart monitor suddenly picked up pace.

He practically jumped to the edge of the chair in response and yelled for Hank without tearing his eyes off Rogue.

* * *

 _"Thanks a lot for traumatizing me."_

 _Rogue frowned in confusion at the sound of Kitty's barely audible voice. "How'd I do that?"_

 _The disembodied voice said something about graduation and exams, but it was muffled. She could hardly hear through the thick walls and door protecting her. Curiosity finally got the better of her, and she let a layer fall away._

 _"I'm sorry," the muffled voice said. "You showed me how to be strong."_

 _The words were weak and scattered. She could hardly make sense of what Kitty was saying._

 _"I really don't want to lose my friend."_

 _"What friend?" Rogue asked in return. "You mean...me?" There was no answer, and she strained to listen closer._

 _"Maybe it's a little selfish, but I don't want you to stay wherever you are."_

 _"I'm safe here," she pointed out. "You wouldn't understand."_

 _"I'm not ready to lose you." The voice sounded so hurt, like Kitty was in some kind of physical pain. The thought made Rogue tense. "Please...don't give up on us yet."_

 _Another layer of wall slipped from where she'd secured it. "Kitty? What's going on? What's wrong?"_

 _She cried out when voice after voice echoed through the small room. They talked over each other. Some from years ago and some more recent. Kurt said something, and the Professor, but she could barely grasp what they were trying to tell her._

 _"Hey, Stripes."_

 _"Logan!" Rogue concentrated on his voice while trying to block all the others out._

 _"You got me worried. But you're a fighter. It wouldn't be the same around here without you."_

 _She scoffed and crossed her arms. "It'd probably be better."_

 _"Your fire is still in there somewhere. You just gotta find it again."_

 _"I don't know if I can. I just feel...empty." All her energy and warmth and….everything seemed to be tied to Carol now. She wasn't sure looking for it again was even worth it._

 _Voices overlapped again. She couldn't distinguish who said what or when. They spoke about how strong she was though. How resilient and how she could handle anything. They apologized and they cried. They made promises._

 _Another layer of protection melted away._

 _Kitty's voice rang clearly for a second. "Thanks, Rogue. For being you."_

 _The voices left her feeling raw and vulnerable. She didn't know how to handle it all. She didn't know if she should even believe them._

 _"You just gotta take my word for it."_

 _Rogue closed her eyes and pictured Logan. Standing above her, hand extended, waiting patiently for her to either accept the gesture or not. Just like that day when she'd learned of Mystique's lies, the day she joined the X-Men._

 _"We've either earned your trust by now or we haven't."_

 _She hesitantly reached towards his out stretched hand. She grasped it like a lifeline, and immediately felt a strange buzz of energy fill the void around her. Faces flashed by, both enemy and friend. Voices whispered as the buzzing increased._

 _"I'll...I'll trust you," she finally relented, and suddenly felt herself being pulled away. The walls crumbled around her, the door faded into nothingness, and Logan disappeared._

* * *

A loud beeping was the first thing Rogue noticed. The fact that it was annoying was the second. She shifted uncomfortably, and groaned when it caused her pain. It was only then that she realized she didn't know where she was.

The last thing she remembered was being in the cell, but whatever she was laying on wasn't hard or cold. It wasn't the floor, and it wasn't the exam table. The smell was different too. It smelled...clean. Overly clean even.

A vague memory of a rescue flashed briefly through her mind. The X-Men had all been there. Unless it had been a dream. A hallucination maybe. And this was some sort of trick to deceive her, to make her relax so they could catch her off guard.

She didn't want to open her eyes in case it really was all just a dream. She didn't want to wake up and be alone again. A warm touch on her arm startled her, but she kept her eyes closed tightly. All the guards wore gloves.

But the touch wasn't hurting her this time.

Finally, when curiosity got the best of her, she gave in. She opened her eyes slowly, more out of fear than anything, and sucked in a quick breath when her eyes met Logan's. She couldn't believe her eyes for a moment. She wasn't alone. She wasn't in the cell anymore, or in the LAB.

"You're here," she stated, her voice was hoarse from disuse.

Logan gave her arm a light squeeze as if to reassure her that he was real. "Where else would I be?"

A weak smile tugged at her lips. She was tired and a little light-headed, but felt herself relaxing by the second. As her eyes began to drift shut she heard Logan say something, and forced her eyes to open a little more. Hank walked into her line of sight with a warm, affectionate smile directed right at her. She blinked slowly and was happy to find that he didn't disappear.

As her eyelids grew heavier she tried to get a few words out. Just something to thank them for getting her out of that cell. Her muddled brain wasn't cooperating though. It was then that something clicked.

Her eyes popped open again and she turned her head to look at Logan. "Did you offer to buy me a bike?"

A look of surprise crossed his face, but it was gone before she could be sure she really saw it. "No, kid. You were just dreamin'," he answered with an amused smirk.

She mumbled something incoherent even to herself as sleep tugged her closer to unconsciousness again. Her eyes drifted shut despite her attempts to keep them open, and soon she was once again asleep.

* * *

Hank smiled as Rogue fell asleep. It was a healthy sleep this time. She was no doubt tired, and to her it no doubt felt as if she had just been rescued. A good, peaceful rest would help her heal faster.

"Logan," he began, pausing from the task of double checking Rogue's vitals. "Did you bribe her into waking up with the promise of a motorcycle?"

The other man didn't answer right away. He sat with his arms crossed and an obvious attempt to hide his relief. "I was desperate," he eventually admitted.

Hank stared at him a moment longer before a laugh bubbled out. The first in a long time.


	22. Illusions of Normalcy

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of the X-Men.

A/N: This is kinda a long chapter, so I won't ramble on and bore you all.

* * *

The next several days went by in a blur. Rogue spent most of the time sleeping, and when she wasn't asleep there was always someone around. It was starting to get annoying actually. She hadn't had more than a few minutes by herself, and even then she wasn't _really_ alone. She could feel Carol somewhere deep down inside. Like a shadowy reminder. She was starting to think the woman was doing it on purpose.

Not that she had a chance to really think about what happened. Her more recent memories had started coming back once she really woke up, though being rescued was still vague. She remembered flying, and she remembered waking up the first time and being alone, just before Carol had asserted herself and finally took over. Then there was the vague recollection of nearly attacking her friends while under Carol's control.

She felt worse every time she thought about what happened. Between the guilt over Carol, the guilt about what she'd nearly done or could have done to her friends, and the still fresh memories of being imprisoned, she was surprised she got any sleep at all. Though she had a feeling Mr. McCoy was slipping her something to help with that. She didn't mind too much. It wasn't like no one had ever put something in her water to weaken her anyway.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"Alright, Rogue, remember what I said."

Mr. McCoy was fussing over her. There was really no other way to put it. He'd promised to let her leave the med-lab today, but the day was already half over and she had yet to even get out of the bed. "I will," she replied.

He didn't seem to notice. "No long walks, definitely no running..."

"There goes that plan," she quipped dryly.

He gave her a smile and continued. "Don't lift anything over four pounds. Drink plenty of water throughout the day as well. Mostly you just need to rest and let your body recover."

"I know. You've told me."

"I'll need to check your stitches tomorrow. How about after lunch?"

"That's fine." Honestly, what else would she say? No? It's not like she had anything better to do, and even if she did, someone would probably chase after her and drag her kicking and screaming to the med-lab.

"Oh yes, and try to stay off your feet. The brace should help take pressure off your ankle and knee, but it would best not to push it too much. Are you sure you would not like to use a pair of crutches for a couple of weeks?"

She arched an eyebrow at him and held up her hands. One was in a cast, and the other had a bandage wrapped from her fingers to just past her wrist. She wouldn't be doing any writing for a while, let alone be able to handle crutches.

"Of course. It would be a bit difficult, wouldn't it?" He chuckled and turned to grab a small jar of ointment. "I'm afraid there isn't much I can do about the brand on the make of your neck..."

She shifted uncomfortably and looked away, barely resisting the urge to reach up and touch the mark. He'd taken the bandage off the day before, but the skin around it was still tight and moving her head the wrong way made it hurt. Even without that reminder, she would still know it was there. The numbers were imbedded in her brain, and her body.

"Unless, of course, you have changed your mind about absorbing Logan's healing powers..."

"No!" she quickly answered. Logan had offered, and it would probably make things a lot easier, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't stand the thought of absorbing him, or anyone else for that matter.

Mr. McCoy seemed to understand her aversion to it, and simply nodded. "That's alright, Rogue. You don't have to absorb anyone you don't want to. We have no intention of forcing you."

She shifted again, wincing lightly when her suddenly tense muscles protested the movement. "Thanks," she mumbled, once again unable to look directly at him. A hand on her shoulder took her by surprise, and it took all her self-control not to jerk away.

"I am truly sorry for what you had to go through, Rogue," Mr. McCoy told her softly. "No one thinks any less of you because of what happened. It was not your fault."

She nodded slightly, but refused to look up at him. There was no other answer to give. If she argued he would probably just keep her here for another week. She'd heard it already anyway, and knew she'd probably keep hearing the same things for a while.

They were sorry it took them so long. Sorry she had to be a lab rat. Glad that she was awake and on the road to recovery. Promised to help her heal fully. And insistent that she talk to them whenever she needed to.

They were nice sentiments, at least.

She saw their looks. Saw how Jean could barely look her in the eyes and winced whenever she caught sight of the cast. How the Professor smiled sadly at her. How Kurt seemed to think she was going to disappear in the blink of an eye. She'd even caught Kitty with unusually wet eyes once.

They might be willing to be near her, but she had a feeling they had some issues they needed to sort out too. She almost wanted to apologize for whatever it was she'd put them through. Apparently it'd been stressful.

A part of her was comforted by the fact they'd taken her near death so seriously, but another part wondered how long that would last. She'd practically killed Carol Danvers and wasn't sure she'd ever be able to use her powers again after…everything. She was damaged. And what good was she to the X-Men without her powers?

"Rogue?"

She jumped slightly and looked up, only then realizing she must have zoned out for a minute. "Sorry," she said.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine."

"Perhaps you should stay one more day. It might be best if..."

"No," she interrupted, sounding more desperate than she'd intended. She'd been locked up for two weeks, and had been confined to a bed for the last week. She just wanted to get out for a while, and maybe put some space between her and everyone else. "I just would really like to sleep in my own bed tonight," she added to cover up her desperation.

Mr. McCoy didn't seem to like it, but he nodded anyway. "Very well. Logan should return momentarily. In the meantime..." He walked over to one of the empty beds and picked up a stack of folded clothes. "Perhaps you would like to change. Kitty brought these for you this morning."

She took the offered clothes and stared down at them. When was the last time she'd even worn normal clothes? She mentally shook the thought away before her mind went down a path she really didn't want it to go down. "Why do I have to wait on Logan anyway?" she asked, letting Mr. McCoy help her off the bed. Even with the help, a shooting pain still shot through her side thanks to her ribs.

"You are not fully healed yet, Rogue. I think it would be best if someone was with you. Just in case."

Like she had much of a choice. She sighed and headed slowly to the bathroom in the adjoining room. Changing took longer than usual, and only partially because of her injuries making it harder. As soon as the medical pajamas, as she'd secretly dubbed them, were off she caught sight of bruises and half-healed wounds in the mirror. For several minutes all she could do was stare.

There was a large, discolored lump on her side where one of her broken ribs was. A bandage just off to the side of her abdomen hid the first area that Kern had removed skin from. She couldn't help but wonder what it looked like now, but didn't have the guts to move the bandage and look. Mr. McCoy had always made a point to change her bandages while she was too tired to pay attention, something she'd been secretly thankful for.

Her body was littered with bruises in various stages of healing. Some mostly faded completely, and others still fresh. As she stared at her face in the mirror she brought her hand up and let her fingers trail over the numbers on the back of her neck.

56399.

That's who she would probably be for the rest of her life. Even if someday the numbers faded from her skin, she knew she would still feel them there. She glared at her reflection and spun around as quickly as she could without putting herself off balance. With her back turned towards the mirror she pulled on the baggy pants and equally baggy, semi-long sleeved t-shirt with a band name written across it that she'd never even heard of. It was only then that she really noticed the clothes weren't actually hers.

With no other option she stepped out of the bathroom. "I think Kitty must've gotten confused on whose room was whose," she commented as she joined Mr. McCoy in the med-lab again.

He chuckled as he looked her over, and it didn't make her feel any better. "I see she got you some loose fitting clothes just as I asked."

"Yeah, they're loose alright," she muttered. The pants weren't long enough to trip her, but she'd had to tie them up around her waist to keep them from slipping down. And the shirt smelled like it'd been in a box for a decade or two.

"You are better off with loose clothing for the next couple of days. They won't irritate your injuries as much," he explained.

"Whose clothes are these, anyway?" she asked.

"I believe Kitty mentioned the pants were an old pair of Kurt's. She didn't say where she acquired the shirt."

By acquired he actually meant stole, she realized. She knew Kitty well enough to know she would have no problem going through other people's clothes if she had a good enough reason. She'd be more surprised if Kitty hadn't organized the person's wardrobe for them while she was at it.

A sudden puff of smoke was immediately followed by a yell of, "Schwester!"

Rogue jumped and backed up into the bed. She wouldn't admit it, but if the bed hadn't been there she probably would've been on the floor. Instead she held one hand to her side and glared, hoping no one had noticed her flinch. "Kurt!"

"Sorry, Rogue," he quickly said, looking honestly apologetic. "Can you leave yet?" he then asked excitedly.

"Logan will be back in moment," Mr. McCoy answered for her. "And then she is free to go."

"Because apparently I need a babysitter," she muttered under her breath, getting a barely hidden chuckle from Kurt and a smile from Mr. McCoy.

"Ve're making dinner for you," Kurt explained happily. "Some of your favorites to celebrate."

"That's...great," she said, trying to sound as excited as he was, but it fell flat. She couldn't even pretend to be happy apparently. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as a thought occurred to her. "Who's 'we'?"

"Storm, me, Jamie, and..."

"Please don't say it."

"Kitty," Kurt finished.

At least Storm was in there with them, she figured. Maybe the house wouldn't burn down before she could sleep in her own bed one more time. "Great," she replied dryly.

Kurt grinned widely. "I'll let them know you're just about ready to leave." Before he left his smile turned a little more comical though. "Nice clothes by the way," he teased.

She shot him a half-hearted glare. "Shut up, Kurt."

He laughed and without any warning slung his arms around her neck in an attempt to hug her. She tensed instinctively and her eyes widened. He needed to let go. Her heart raced as panic started to rush over her. If he touched her skin she could hurt him. Or even...

She started to push him away. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she was more concerned about possibly killing him. However, before she could, he spoke.

"I'm glad you're back, schwester."

There was so much sincerity in voice, so much emotion, that she froze. He then stepped back with a smile and a happy gleam in his eyes. A second later he was gone, leaving behind the smell of brimstone. She blinked slowly, and by the time her vision re-focused Logan was walking towards her.

"Ready to go, Stripes?" he asked, either unaware of her turmoil moments earlier or thankfully ignoring it.

"Yeah," she muttered, limping slightly towards the door in an effort to keep weight off her ankle.

Logan held the door open for her and gave her a confused look as she walked through. "Where'd ya get that shirt?"

She shrugged distractedly. "Kitty brought it."

He muttered something she didn't quite catch as they made their way to the elevator. She hesitated before stepping inside the small space. The walls were too close for comfort, and the lack of windows didn't help either. She closed her eyes for a moment at mentally berated herself for being so ridiculous. It was just an elevator. The doors would open any second.

Any second...

She opened her eyes, and then realized Logan hadn't pressed a button yet. He was watching her closely instead.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

It was just a stupid elevator. She wasn't trapped, she reminded herself.

He didn't push the matter, much to her relief, and instead leaned forward to push the button. Within seconds the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. She limped out, hoping she didn't seem in too much of a hurry.

The memories were just still too fresh, she figured. She'd be fine in time. She was an X-Man, after all. She had no other choice but to be okay.

"You sure you're ready to be walkin' about?" Logan asked as they walked down the hallway.

"Would you want to be stuck in the med-lab any longer?"

"Point taken."

She frowned as she realized where they were heading. "We aren't going to dinner?" she asked as they came to a stop outside her and Kitty's room.

"Thought you might want a chance to get ready before you're thrown to the wolves," he answered with a smirk. "And Hank would probably have a fit if I took you outside right now."

"He was acting a little weird today."

"He's just worried about ya."

"Doesn't need to be," she said in return, crossing her arms as best she could with the cast. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh. You don't have to be, ya know," he added, leaning back against the wall opposite the room.

She frowned, slightly confused. "Don't have to be what?"

"Fine. You don't have to be fine right now."

She looked away, and decided to just ignore him. She didn't want to breakdown in front of him. He'd seen her cry enough for one lifetime. Besides, she wasn't really sure what she felt. Everything was just kinda mixed together to the point even she was confused by what was going on in her head.

"I'm just gonna..." She trailed off and waved vaguely towards the door.

Logan gave a short nod as she turned to go in. Once inside she closed the door and leaned back against it, shutting her eyes tightly. This was the first real chance she'd had to be alone, but the emotions raging inside of her made it hard to really enjoy it.

With a deep breath she pushed herself off the door and limped her way over to the window. It felt good to at least see the outdoors. She hadn't even looked through a window in over three weeks. A few of the other students wrapped up a game of mutant ball down below as the sun began to sink lower towards the horizon, casting a glow across the trees. It was beautiful in its own way.

It was home.

She walked back across the room and opened the closet. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she just knew she needed more protection. Something to cover her arms better. She felt too...exposed in the sleeves that only came down to her elbows.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the long brown coat she'd warn while they'd all been on the run. It was on the ground, under a box of Kitty's things. It would do, she figured, and reached down to pick it up from the corner it'd somehow gotten lost in. She gave it a tug and gasped when a stabbing pain shot through her chest.

The coat was stuck apparently. She gritted her teeth and prepared to try again, but just as she was about to tug the material free there was a loud rap on the door.

"About done in there, Stripes?" Logan called. "They're callin' us for dinner."

Rogue looked at the brown material in her hand and let it slip away. It would have to wait till later. She'd probably look weird showing up wearing a trench coat to dinner anyway. She would just be careful around the others until she could get some longer sleeves.

"On my way," she answered. She closed the closet door and shuffled her way back out of the room.

As she opened the door she realized Kitty was there too, and caught the tail end of a conversation.

"...rifling through my stuff, half-pint," she heard Logan say.

"But like...Rogue needed a loose shirt and it was just lying in a box. You've never like worn it."

Rogue frowned and looked between the two. "This is your shirt?" she asked him.

"Yep."

She looked down at the emblem and back at him. "You liked this band?"

Logan actually seemed a little defensive. "It was a good one back in the day."

"Back in the day?" Kitty repeated, trying and failing to keep from laughing. "You mean like...the stone age?"

"Funny," Logan growled with a glare. "Very funny, half-pint. Laugh while you can 'cause Danger Room training starts back up next week..."

Kitty instantly stopped laughing with a slightly terrified expression.

Rogue smirked amusedly at them, and just enjoyed the show without comment.

"Um, yeah, like I was saying..." Kitty said, moving to Rogue's side as they started down the hallway.

Logan trailed behind them, but Rogue didn't miss the equally amused smirk he wore at Kitty's sudden change of topic.

"You'll totally be able to graduate because like...the Professor worked out this thing with the principle so all you have to do is take the exam you missed. We're going to have a big party afterwards," she added, sounding more excited on Rogue's behalf than she herself actually felt.

Something about it actually sounded familiar. As if Kitty had already told her before. It was more like a feeling that she'd heard it before, than an actual memory of being told. She'd had similar feelings the last few days. Like little voices echoing in her head, but not from people she'd absorbed. She couldn't place them or really understand what was being said. Most of the time she brushed it off as having been a dream or deja vu.

This time it felt more real though. She _knew_ Kitty had told her this before. "You told me," she pointed out.

Kitty looked confused and gave her a sideways glance. "I did?"

Rogue nodded.

"Oh. I must've forgot." The girl shrugged, but still seemed a little off-kilter. "Did I tell you Gambit stopped by?"

Rogue stopped abruptly, and this time it had nothing to do with the elevator they were getting closer to. "He did?"

The mental image of Gambit slung over Colossus' shoulder flashed through her mind. She'd been pretty sure he was alive, but she'd never found out if they'd actually made it out. No one had mentioned finding him though, and she'd been so preoccupied the last few days...

"Yeah," Kitty answered, interrupting her thoughts. "He dropped by while you were...um...unconscious."

Logan grumbled something unintelligible again as he jabbed at the elevator button with more force than was actually necessary. Rogue ignored him. "What'd he want?"

Kitty shrugged, but there was a smile she was just barely managing to contain. "He asked about you. Wanted to know if we'd found you and if you were okay. Then he talked to the Professor privately for like two hours."

"Weird," she commented casually, while her thoughts raced a mile a minute. The swirling thoughts helped distract her from the closed-in, windowless elevator. It was kinda nice that the swamp rat had stopped by to check on her. She found herself oddly glad that he was okay, and couldn't help but wonder what he and the professor had been talking about for so long.

As soon as the elevator doors opened Rogue was hit with the smell of burnt food coming from the kitchen. As they stepped out of the elevator, she looked sideways Kitty, who blushed lightly.

"There _may_ have been a little accident with the brownies," she said, somehow sounding both defensive and embarrassed at the same time.

Rogue narrowed her eyes with a fake seriousness. "You're trying to kill me, aren't ya, Pryde?"

She expected Kitty to roll her eyes or start ranting about how hard cooking was, just like she usually did when she insulted her cooking. Instead a slightly horrified look crossed the girl's face and she paled noticeably.

"What? No! I..." Her panic gave way to anger, but Rogue could tell it was only half-hearted. "Don't even joke about that!"

"Okay," she said slowly, watching her friend with a hint of concern for her mental stability. She wasn't sure when she'd gotten that touchy about her cooking. "Take it easy, Kitty. Your cooking _is_ pretty bad though."

Logan seemed to take Kitty's reaction as a sign to escape while he could, and walked ahead of them to the dining room.

Kitty didn't seem to notice his absence. "You nearly died, Rogue!"

Oh, so _that's_ what the problem was. Rogue shifted her weight to one leg to take pressure off the other. "I know," she replied quietly. She didn't want to have this conversation. Not at all. She was all too aware of what had happened.

Kitty seemed to calm down, but was still pale. "Just...just don't joke about it, okay?"

"As long as you don't spaz out on me again," she agreed.

"Sorry." Kitty looked a little apologetic, but mostly Rogue was glad she didn't look like she was about to pass out anymore. "It's just too soon I guess. Do you want a hug?"

A slightly appalled look flashed across Rogue's face at the question. "No," she answered. Kitty was already standing too close for her comfort, and Kurt had already surprised her with a hug once today. She really didn't want another one. She was surprised Kitty had even bothered asking though. It was more like her to just lunge like Kurt had. Something really had rattled her apparently. "Are you okay?" she finally just asked.

Kitty looked at her as if she had two heads. "You nearly died."

"We covered that."

"No, Rogue, I don't think you understand," Kitty said seriously. "I don't think you understand just how close you came to being classified as 'deceased'. Or...or what you looked like when we found in that cell."

Rogue looked away as things she desperately wanted to forget came back to her again. She had a pretty good idea what she must've looked like when they'd found her. It was embarrassing to think about. She'd been on the brink of giving up. She pretty much had given up. Between Creeps and Limpy beating her, the experiments, being forced to absorb so many people, believing she'd been abandoned by her friends...

They'd broken her. She'd been physically and mentally broken, and probably still was.

"Sorry," she muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Rogue. Just..." Kitty shifted awkwardly, as if barely restraining herself from hugging Rogue. "Don't scare me like that again. I know we've all come close before, and you've nearly died before, but this was different."

"It's fine," she said awkwardly. Kitty was the last person she'd imagined having this kind of conversation with, and she wasn't quite sure how to handle it. Others had tried to breech the topic the last few days, and she'd barely avoided an in-depth one with the Professor, but Kitty had just seemed glad she wasn't dead. Apparently she was more relieved than Rogue had thought.

"If you ever get kidnapped again you're taking me with you."

It wasn't a request, Rogue realized. Kitty was deadly serious. She couldn't help but find it amusing anyway. "Sure, Kitty."

"I'm serious."

"Uh huh." She bit back a smile and started limping her way towards the dining room, where she had a feeling people were deliberately hiding at the moment. "Let's go, Pryde. I'm hungry." She wasn't really, but at least it would be a distraction.


	23. Just Breathe

Disclaimer: Do I really have to say it again?

A/N: Ok, a little history on this chapter. It wasn't in my original plan for this fic. In fact, I wasn't even going to post it. But since you guys are so great and actually seem to like this fic I thought maybe I would just go ahead and add it in. It took some editing though, which is part of why it took me so long to update. Well, that and a busy week. I'm very sorry for taking so long! Anyway, this takes place just a couple days after Rogue is released from the med-lab. It's short, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

* * *

Rogue stared at the coffee table as Scott and Kurt chatted nearby. The three of them were spread out over the lounge. She'd come downstairs in hopes of being able to sneak into the kitchen and get something to eat. After living off bread, water, and the occasional piece of fruit for two weeks her stomach wasn't really wiling to hold much. Being able to walk around on her own was more appealing than food, but the only way she'd been able to talk herself out of her room was to focus on the fact she needed to eat. She'd told herself that Logan would have come and checked on her eventually anyway.

Unfortunately, the people she'd wanted to avoid weren't out and about as she had assumed they would be. It was summer and the middle of the day. Most of the people in the house should have been off enjoying themselves. She wasn't that lucky though.

It had taken her much longer than usual to get down the stairs, but she didn't feel like risking the elevator. And so, when Scott had left the kitchen, he'd spotted her instantly as she'd descended the stairs. The next thing she knew she was in the lounge with a bowl of cereal. Before she could even finish others started wondering in and out. They didn't make a big deal out of seeing her like Scott had, which she appreciated, but she would have appreciated it more if they'd just left her alone.

To make it worse, Logan was nowhere to be seen. Something about that fact hurt. She wasn't even sure why. He had better and more important things to do than babysit her all day.

She stayed sitting on the sofa partially because she thought he might show up, but after twenty minutes he still wasn't around and the pain was getting too much for her to ignore. The patch of missing skin on her thigh was burning thinks to the pressure of sitting upright so long and the rough material of her sweat pants. They weren't her sweat pants, but they weren't as loose as Kurt's had been and rubbed against the tender skin surrounding the bandage. After her trip down the stairs her ankle and knee were aching as well, and it was mostly for that reason that she hadn't moved. The thought of climbing the stairs again wasn't encouraging her to get off the sofa.

"You okay, Rogue?" Scott asked.

She looked over to find him watching her, his brows creased in concern. She suddenly felt overly self-conscious. Like everyone was watching her. Had she zoned out? Had her expression somehow given away the fact she definitely wasn't as okay as she had insisted she was?

She wasn't sure what had happened, but she suddenly felt the need to escape.

"Yeah," she answered, looking away. She scooted to the edge of the sofa and pushed herself up with her bandaged hand. "I'm going to..." she trailed off. She was going to go back upstairs, but knew neither Kurt nor Scott would like it, so she just let the sentence fall flat.

Rogue could tell that they were definitely watching her now.

Scott frowned deeply. "I was just wondering if you'd like something else to eat," he said. "You didn't eat much, so I thought..." He held an apple out to her.

And her heart suddenly started to race.

 _"You want it, mutant?" Limpy laughed, tossing an apple up in the air and then catching it._

 _She was hungry. The piece of toast hadn't done a whole lot to help. She looked at the apple and then glared tiredly at him. She had always liked apples. She wanted the apple. There was no way she would ask for it though._

 _"Here, I'll help," Creeps said in a far-too-nice voice. He snatched the apple from his partner and in the same fluid movement threw it at her so hard that she cried out in surprise when it struck her shoulder. Laughter filled the cell as Creeps bent down to pick up the fruit, only to move across the room and hurl it at her again._

Rogue's breath hitched in her chest. Her lungs constricted to the point she couldn't pull in enough air. She backed up, not really seeing the apple or Scott anymore. She felt people surrounding her. There were voices. Some said her name.

Were they people she'd absorbed? Was it Carol?

Too many voices.

Too many people.

She couldn't _breathe_.

She turned to leave, to get away from the noise and the tight spaces, but a hand grabbed her elbow. She spun back around with wide eyes, expecting to find Creeps or Limpy dragging her into the LAB, but the eyes in front of her were full of shock and sadness.

"Rogue?"

She needed to get away.

"Are you okay?"

' _Breathe_ ,' she yelled silently inside her head.

"What's wrong?"

The hand was heavy on her arm. ' _I'm not there. It's safe. Safe_ ,' she tried to tell herself.

"Schwester, it's just us."

She yanked her arm away and made her way out of the room. She wasn't sure where she was going. Her feet moved on their own while her mind buzzed and her heart hammered against her chest. She wasn't really aware of climbing the stairs, she ignored the pain in her leg when she reached the top, and didn't stop until she was in her and Kitty's room with her back pressed safely against the closed door.

 _Breathe. In. Out_. _In. Out._

 _Breathe_.

She struggled to make her lungs work. Once her legs felt more stable she stumbled desperately across the room to the window. She scrambled with the latch and then threw open the window before leaning out just enough to feel the warm summer air against her face. She drew in a sharp, ragged breath and let the fresh air fill her lungs.

Fresh air...birds chirping...the sun warm and comforting...

She felt herself relax as the tightness in her chest eased. Her mind finally started to clear as well once the panic passed. As soon as it did she nearly banged her head against the wall.

That was _not_ something she'd wanted anyone to see.

She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to face either of them again now. They would look at her differently. She was already more of a hindrance than an asset. What if they figured out what had just happened? What if they realized she was broken? Hopefully she'd gotten away before they really noticed anything. Maybe they wouldn't care. Maybe they wouldn't tell anyone. Maybe...

Maybe she should just stay away from all of them for the rest of her life.

* * *

A/N: What did you think of this chapter? I'm still not quite sure it worked. The next (originally planned) chapter will be up soon!


	24. Wondering

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own the X-Men.

A/N: This chapter is a bit...dark.

* * *

It was easier to ignore her anxiety during the day. She always made sure to face a window. Seeing the outdoors, knowing she wasn't locked in a windowless room with no way to escape, and just being able to _see_ sometimes helped keep her tethered to reality and calm her nerves. At night though, when it was dark and hard to see what might be lurking in the corners...

Every creak was Creeps and Limpy opening her cell door. Every soft noise was a scalpel clinking against a metal tray. The rustle of Kitty's sheets as she moved in her sleep was an unseen enemy waiting to attack.

If she managed to get to sleep at all, she would just be woken up by a nightmare.

Nights were the worst. Days were sometimes tolerable.

Sometimes she wished she didn't have to put up with either.

Rogue rubbed her hands up and down her arms as the feeling of gloved hands touching her persisted. Her skin crawled at the memories that assaulted her. Creeps and how he ignored her personal space. Kern's probing fingers as he coldly made observations about her skin. Finnely and the scissors. All of them treating her like something in-human, something not worth giving a second thought about.

And always touching. She'd had no control. No way of stopping them. No one was supposed to be able to touch her. It had been a better defense mechanism than she'd given it credit for. When she'd needed the assurance that no one could hurt her, physically at least, her mutation had given her that much.

Then that assurance had been ripped away, leaving her raw and vulnerable.

And terrified.

As she absently wondered into the kitchen she quickly flipped on the light over the table before the darkness could overwhelm her. She opened and closed her cast-free hand, taking comfort in the leather of her glove as it stretched over her skin and the bandage underneath. The stinging sensation from the movement aggravating her still tender injuries was worth it. As long as she had them on she had some measure of control. No one could make her absorb someone if she was covered up.

Maybe she wouldn't kill anyone this way either.

The thought sent a stab of guilt through her chest. Because Carol would probably never wake up. She'd taken the woman's life. Her soul. She'd taken everything. It might as well be murder.

 _"Little murderer," her father slurred in her face. His hot, rancid breath made her sick. "Killed yer own mother. Your fault she's gone."_

 _She knew what was coming as soon as she saw him drain the last of the beer. "Daddy?" She dropped the crayon she'd been clutching desperately to and stumbled backwards. She didn't understand why he was so mad, or what she'd done to make him that way._

 _The glass bottle flew towards her. Shards of glass cut her arms and feet. The yelling hurt her ears. Another bottle...words she didn't understand..._

Rogue stumbled to a stop and gripped the edge of the kitchen counter to stay upright. Her legs were suddenly unsteady, and her heart was racing as the last few remnants of the flashback receded. She took a deep breath and tried to clear her head.

What if it never stopped? What if she never got over this? What would happen if her friends gave her up as a lost cause and abandoned her?

She'd be back in that cell. Maybe not physically, but emotionally and mentally and every other way. She'd be trapped and hurt and...

No. She couldn't go back there. There was too much pain. She'd break all over again.

" _Can't break what's already broken_ ," a voice in her head pointed out. She thought it might have been Carol.

She spotted a knife left out on the counter. Sharper than a butter knife, but not as sharp as a...

She shook her head to dispel the memory of Kern's scalpel.

Her hand grazed the handle without much thought, and as she limped towards the table her fingers closed around the knife and slid it off the counter. When she sat down she placed the knife on the table top in front of her. The light overhead glinted off the blade. So cold. So impassionate.

An easy way out.

Except it wouldn't actually be that easy, would it? In fact, it would be next to impossible.

Picking up the knife and sliding it across her wrist wouldn't do any good. Her skin was thicker now. Mr. McCoy had said it was almost impenetrable. A standard kitchen knife wouldn't do much damage.

On one hand she was comforted by that. It meant she didn't have to fear a scalpel slicing off pieces of her skin anymore.

On the other hand, she couldn't help but be a little bitter.

Just another choice taken away from her. Another ounce of control she felt slipping away. She couldn't end her own pain even if she wanted to. The thought that maybe she actually would try to end it that way left her feeling ashamed and weak and pathetic all over again.

Something about the knife was alluring though. She stared at it, but barely even seeing the knife as her mind wondered all over the place. She slipped off her glove, something that took more work than normal thanks to one hand still being in a cast.

Whenever she went for a check-up, Mr. McCoy would tell her that she didn't have to wear the glove during the exam, since he would be wearing a pair and her hand was still partially bandaged anyway. She always kept it on though. It was control. She could control when the gloves came off, she had control over who she touched.

But sometimes she just needed to _feel_ things.

It was late anyway, and no one was around. Her fingers brushed across the blade of the knife. The metal was cold against her fingertips. Cold, just like her.

It was _real_ and solid and honest.

The knife didn't lie about caring about her. It didn't lure her in with nice words or smiles. It was what it was. It could be pain.

Or, if her skin wasn't so...abnormal, it could be an escape. She could leave all the pain behind. What good was she to the X-Men anyway? They would fill her empty space with someone else. Someone better. Someone who wasn't staring at a knife and debating the lack of life's meaning.

"Stripes..."

She instinctively jerked away from the knife, her back straightening as she shoved her hand into her lap and hastily pulled on the glove. She couldn't be around people without the glove. For their safety and her own. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as her head snapped up to look for the source of the interruption. For a moment she felt her fear and raging emotions taking over, and panic quickly followed as her control slipped.

As soon as she realized it was Logan she relaxed minutely, but embarrassment quickly washed over her after also realizing what he'd probably seen. A part of her wanted to run, but another part was just glad it was Logan.

Logan wouldn't hurt her. He understood things no one else did. He wouldn't judge her too harshly.

She hoped, at least.

* * *

Logan rubbed a hand over his eyes tiredly as he headed for the front door. Sleep had never been somethin' he was good at. And lately he had only gotten worse at it. There were new things in his nightmares these days. Things involving a girl with two-toned hair and pain filled eyes. Some nights it was all he could do not to barge into her and half-pint's room to make sure Rogue was actually still there, and still alive.

As he crossed the foyer he eyes caught a soft light coming from the kitchen. A second later he picked up on the tale-tell signs of one of the mansion's inhabitants not far away. Someone else was having trouble sleeping it seemed, and he had a pretty good idea who it was.

He turned towards the kitchen without out much thought and stopped in the doorway quietly. Only the small light over the table was on, but it was more than enough to see Rogue with. She sat at the table, her face emotionless, and her eyes staring at the object under her hand. Any other time the dead, hollow look in her eyes would have bothered him, but at the moment it was the knife she held that worried him more.

He didn't like the way she was looking at it. Like it had all the answers.

He walked across the kitchen, letting his boots tap against the tile to alert her of his presence, but she didn't look away from the knife. Her gaze didn't even flicker away for a second, and her bare fingers ran down the blade to the handle.

The sight scared him half to death. And that was no easy feat.

"Stripes..."

He took in her appearance as he sat down across from her. Her pajama sleeves were pulled down as far as the would go, the material even looked stretched from where she'd tugged at the cuffs so often to pull them further down her arms. The once perfectly fitting clothes were loose fitting now, another visible reminder of what she'd gone through. Dark circles around her eyes seemed to be a constant these days, and tonight was no different. There was something...hollow about her face, but he couldn't put a finger on why. During the day it was easy to overlook. She barely left her room anyway, and when she did she didn't make a point of looking at anyone. Her 'I'm fine' mask was always firmly in place in public, but he knew that kind of mask all too well, and saw underneath it with just a glance.

She snapped out of her daze as soon as he spoke, and sat up rigidly straight. Her hand snapped away from the knife as if burned, and her eyes widened. For a horrible second he saw sheer terror staring back at him. It was replaced with embarrassment a second later though, once she figured out it was him.

He didn't miss how her hand shook as she hurriedly slipped on her glove again.

"I didn't hear you come in," she said quietly, her eyes flickered across the table, but avoided looking at the knife.

"You plannin' on doing somethin' with that knife, Stripes?" he asked, not bothering to dance around the subject.

She met his eyes briefly before her gaze flickered hesitantly to the knife in front of her and then quickly away again. "What're you tryin' to say, Logan?" Her tone was brisk and angry, but he could tell there wasn't much real emotion behind it.

"Not many reasons someone would be staring that intently at a knife this time of night."

"I'm not crazy."

"Didn't say you were."

"It just...reminded me of something."

"Hmph." He glanced at the knife and then at her arms. Her hands were in her lap, but he didn't need to see them to remember the patch of skin on her palm, or any of the others, where the skin had been removed. Hank had said it had been methodical. Perfectly straight lines, no shaking hands or hesitation marks, and almost surgically clean. The work of a scalpel and a well-trained hand.

"What're you doin' here anyway? Shouldn't you be sleeping or chasing Sabretooth or somethin'?"

"Couldn't sleep," he answered honestly.

"Oh."

He watched her silently for a moment, taking in the light sheen of sweat along her hairline. She was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. He knew how that felt. And he knew how it felt to want to be alone so no one could see under the mask. That wasn't somethin' he wanted Rogue to feel, but if she needed space than he'd give it to her.

"Want me to leave?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Slowly, hesitantly, she looked up at him. The range of emotions he saw flash across her face was almost enough to steal the breath right out of his lungs. It almost hurt to look at. A guarded expression replaced the thunderstorm in her eyes, but she let some of her pain remain. He wasn't really sure why the kid trusted him enough to let him, of all people, see her raw like this.

"No," she finally muttered softly, once again not looking at him.

It had taken a lot to admit that and he knew it. He wasn't about to take that fact for granted. There was still a little problem though. It sat between them, the light glistening off the blade ominously. He reached out his hand and placed it palm up on the table.

She looked at it and then up at him in confusion. He glanced pointedly at the knife without a word.

She swallowed thickly before slowly bringing a hand up. He watched, unable to shake his own tension, when she picked up the knife. Once she placed it in his hand, he moved it to the other end of the table. Before she could take her hand off the table he reached out again and gently placed his over hers. She instantly tuned hers over and grasped his with a death grip.

On the outside she looked exhausted, but more was conveyed just by how tightly she held onto his hand than anything else. She needed help, but didn't know how to ask. She needed comfort, but probably didn't think she deserved it.

There was no way she was going to be able to brush this off easily. No one could. He had no idea how to convince her of that though.

"It gets better, Stripes."

She looked up at him. Her expression blank. Empty. "Does it?"

He couldn't bring himself to lie to her.

So he just squeezed her hand gently, and hoped that she would understand it as the promise to never leave that he meant it to be.


	25. Light in the Dark

Disclaimer: Still not my characters.

A/N: This chapter surprised me a bit when I was writing the fic. Thanks, everyone, for reading and reviewing! There's only a few more chapters left now.

* * *

 _"Today we will be removing Subject 56399's right hand," Dr. Kern stated calmly while she struggled to get off the table. Rogue watched wide-eyed as he turned to address someone else. "Do you have any objections?"_

 _Her father stepped out of the shadows with a sneer in her direction. "Little murderer kills everyone she touches," he said, his voice full of loathing._

 _"Daddy?" she cried out, desperately pleading for him to help her and forgive her._

 _"Do whatever you want with the brat," he added, ignoring her please._

 _"You should have just sided with me, Rogue," Mystique's silky, venom filled voice said from above her. "I would have protected you, but no...you chose this."_

 _Kern stepped up next to Mystique, scalpel in hand. "Let us begin."_

 _The blade was lowered to her wrist, and she screamed._

Rogue jolted awake, breathing heavily and clutching the bedsheet beneath her. As the nightmare faded she felt her pounding heart gradually begin to slow down. She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a moment.

The dream had felt so real. So real, in fact, that her hand actually hurt. Curious, she quietly turned it over and held her hand up to the small stream of light coming from the window. Even in the dim light of the moon she could see a little stain of fresh blood on the bandage that was wrapped around her hand. She must've ripped a stitch again, she realized. It wasn't hard to do really. The stitches didn't do much. And she didn't care anyway. In fact she felt numb. The pain dulled to an occasional throb, but mostly she just felt empty.

She'd spent the time since getting out of the med-lab trying to get thing back to normal. It wasn't really working, but no one other than Logan really questioned her act. And the normalcy was an act. She didn't feel right. One minute she would be listening to Scott rattle on about a new tactic he wanted to try during their next training session and the next she would be lost in thought and barely able to breathe. The Professor insisted it was normal after what she'd been through, but this didn't _feel_ normal.

" _You're not normal_ ," Carol whispered in her ear. Though she was still securely locked away, Ms. Marvel still managed to say something once in awhile. " _You're dangerous_."

It was true, and she knew it. She hadn't even been born normally. Her mother had died in the attempt. She'd pushed her adopted mother over a cliff, and Ms. Marvel was brain dead. What kind of person could cause so much pain?

 _'I didn't mean to hurt anyone_ ,' she thought to herself.

 _'But you did_.'

She sat up on the edge of the bed and stared at the open closet across from her. A part of her wanted to wake Kitty up, and another part protested the mere thought. She was confused by the conflicting emotions. She wanted to be alone, but at the same time she didn't. She didn't want to keep distancing herself from her friends, but couldn't bring herself to let them in. She even wanted to absorb someone just to prove to herself and the others that she was still worth having around, that she was still of use to them, but the thought of touching anyone made her sick.

All the things she'd been pushing away suddenly swept over her. The ache was almost too much.

For the first time she actually _wanted_ to cry, just to release some of the pain that was tearing her up inside, but the tears wouldn't come. Maybe she'd kept them at bay too long, and now they just weren't there. Maybe she was too cold hearted to cry.

Unable to sit still anymore, Rogue stood and quietly made her way to the closet. She grabbed the brown coat from the corner and gave it a hard tug, wincing when her hand and ribs burned. She simply didn't care about the pain at the moment. She just wanted to get away.

She waited until she was in the hallway before fighting with the coat to get it on. She breathed a sigh of relief as the long sleeves covered her already long sleeved pajama top. The added layer would give anyone she bumped into at least a little more protection from her, which in turn helped her relax a little.

Without any real idea of where she was going, Rogue bypassed the elevator in favor of the stairs, but instead of walking down she lifted into the air and then landed by the front door. She swallowed around a lump in her throat upon realizing she'd just used Ms. Marvel's powers. She'd avoided using them since waking up, and immediately felt a stab of guilt for using them now.

She rushed out the door and around the mansion, just going where her feet took her without much thought. The further away she got from the mansion the more forceful the emotions inside her became. By the time she reached a grove of trees it was hard to even breathe. She leaned against a tree and slid down until she was sitting there with her knees to her chest, feeling more lost and alone than ever as conflicting emotions raged inside.

* * *

Storm gracefully lowered herself to the ground, her feet touching so lightly that she made no sound at all. She could hear the tell-tale signs of Logan working in the garage just around the corner. For a moment she considered meeting him there and filling him in on the information she'd acquired from Fury. It was late, however, and he was no doubt attempting to work off some steam. She would fill him in later, along with Charles. It was nothing that needed urgent attention.

Instead she circled around the mansion, staying out of his range of sight even though she had no doubt he heard her or caught her scent in the breeze. She simply wanted to do a quick perimeter check before she headed to bed. It was likely unnecessary with the security measures in place, but after hearing what Fury had to say she felt the need to be a little more proactive in their defense.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Logan, who had moved to the entrance of the garage. He turned after a minute and went back inside though, confirming her theory that he wanted to be alone at the moment. He knew she would tell him if she had gathered any urgent information. She found herself rather relieved he was in one of his moods, since she wasn't particularly in the mood for company either.

She was nearing the completion of her circle, and looking forward to the prospect of sleeping a couple of hours, when a rustling noise caught her attention. She paused abruptly and let her gaze flicker into the small wooded patch of land she was walking along.

She knew Logan sometimes liked to walk through the woods when he needed to get away from everyone and was unable to actually leave. Logan, however, was clearly in the garage, and the noise had not sounded like an animal. With narrowed eyes she cautiously stepped past the first few trees and listened for any other sign that someone could be sneaking around.

It wasn't hard to find the source of the noise.

The person had not made much effort to hide. Not far inside the woods, with the mansion still visible through the trees, someone sat huddled against a tree. A long brown coat was wrapped around them, their head ducked and resting on their knees, and their arms wrapped around their legs. The only thing visible was a head of two-toned hair that made it clear who the person was.

Ororo couldn't ignore the tugging at her heart at the sight. Rogue looked so small with the coat covering her completely as she slumped over, a tremor occasionally going through her frame. This was the wounded, hurting teenager who had suffered greatly. Not the detached, unaffected persona she had presented everyone with.

Her own exhaustion was quickly forgotten at the sight. She moved over to the shivering child and knelt down. "Rogue," she said softly, attempting to get her attention without causing her too much distress.

Rogue jumped anyway and her head shot up. "Storm?" she breathed out in surprise.

She had expected to see tears, but there were none. Between the lights coming from the mansion and the large moon overhead, she could clearly see the girl's face. The carefully constructed mask Rogue had worn in front of everyone had slipped away. She now appeared warn, raw, and lost. Broken even, but there were no signs of tears.

This was a child who needed comforting, who needed to know it was alright to feel the way she felt.

* * *

Rogue squeezed her legs a little tighter, bringing them closer to her chest in an attempt to get the tremors to stop. She didn't want Storm to see her like this. She hadn't wanted anyone to see her like this.

"What are you doing here?" she asked once she finally found her voice.

"I heard a noise."

"Oh." She looked away and released her legs, only to then cross her arms. It was awkward with the cast, but she managed, and she hoped it looked intimidating enough. If Storm or one of the others saw how broken she really was, they might think her too weak to be any good. She couldn't stand the thought of that. She didn't want pity. She just wanted them to think of her as the cold, strong Rogue who could take care of herself, even though she didn't feel much like that person lately.

"I couldn't sleep," she explained, still not looking at the older woman. "So I just...thought I'd come out here."

"Rogue," Storm said gently. "Please look at me."

She closed her eyes and willed herself to look emotionless. After a second or two she finally turned her head to look at Storm. Her normally stoic features had softened in a way they normally only did for Evan. She couldn't remember anyone ever looking at her like that before.

"You do not have to be strong all the time," Storm said firmly, but still with the same gentle affection that was mirrored in her eyes.

The words hit her like a ton of bricks. She suddenly felt weighed down, as if all the emotions she'd harbored and ignored were physically pulling her lower and lower. Fear swept through her for a moment, and before she could stop herself words of her own began spilling out.

"I don't want anyone to think any differently of me," she admitted, staring at the opposite tree again. "I don't want any of you to think I'm useless now."

"No one thinks that, Rogue. No one expects you to be okay right now."

"You don't understand," she choked out. She wasn't sure why it was so hard to speak. "I can't even stand the _thought_ of touching anyone. Whenever someone gets close I just...I'm just afraid I'll do to them what I did to Carol. And using her powers makes me feel like a murderer all over again. But if I can't use my powers than what good am I?" she added angrily, all of it directed towards herself.

"We do not keep you around simply because of your powers," Storm quickly replied. "That may be why Professor Xavier searched for you in the first place, but it is not what makes you family. You are family because we love and care about you, Rogue. We are not Mystique. We do not care about you based on your abilities, but because of who you are."

It was nice to hear, but Rogue couldn't bring herself to believe it. No one ever kept her around for her charming personality. It was always because of what they could get from her. And right now she was useless. "But..."

Storm interrupted before she could get more than a word out. "You have become accustomed to people using you, to people thinking of you only as far as your powers are concerned. I understand, Rogue. Perhaps one day we will be able to prove to you that you are more than your powers, but until then I just ask that you believe me when I tell you that you are cared for regardless of what you can or cannot give in return."

Rogue shut her eyes and tried to focus on breathing, on the rustle of leaves in the wind, on the smell of the dirt. Anything other than the far-too-nice things Storm was saying. She wanted to believe it, but a voice in her head told her to be careful. If she trusted people so easily, it would just hurt all the more when they abandoned her.

When she felt a hand on her shoulder it took all her self-control not to flinch away. She refrained from doing so, and was glad Storm was at least wearing gloves. She just wanted to be alone, where she didn't have to worry about anyone seeing her break down. Storm didn't seem in a hurry to leave though.

"If one day you feel comfortable using your powers again then so be it," Storm said. "And if not, that is alright as well. You will still have a home, Rogue. _This_ will still be your home, and we will still be your family."

Tears prickled the corner of her eyes. They began to fall before she could stop them, and a second later a gloved thumb gently wiped them away. The touch was smooth and light against her face. It didn't hurt, and for a moment she was reminded of a vague memory of when they had appeared in her cell to break her out. A gentle touch that made her heart ache.

A choked sob escaped and she bent over to rest her head against her knees again, but instead she felt herself being pulled to the side. Her head rested against Storm's shoulder as more tears streamed down her face. Strong arms wrapped around her, holding her in a tender embrace that just made it all the more impossible to stop crying.

If anyone asked she wouldn't be able to explain what it felt like. It was relief, it was sadness, it was a longing to never be let go of. Some of the weight lifted off her shoulders as everything she'd been holding in came cascading out. Storm held her close, occasionally whispering words of assurance that only made the tears come faster.

* * *

Ororo felt a tear run down her cheek as Rogue cried against her shoulder. Sobs racked the girl's body despite her obvious attempt to keep them at bay. She had dealt with these emotions, and others, for far too long without true release. The things Rogue had experienced since a young child...It was too much for any one person to handle on their own.

Her heart broke for the girl in her arms. Rogue had been on the verge of emotional collapse for too long. Before she had been abducted even. Now it was finally coming out, but she had a feeling it was still only a portion of Rogue's troubles.

She brought a hand up to hold the back of Rogue's head and closed her eyes. "You have been strong long enough," she whispered. "Now it is time to rest."

Another choked sob came from the girl in her arms, and she held her a little tighter in response. Rogue's hand clutched the back of her clothing, as if afraid she would disappear if she let go. She sensed Charles gently probing her mind, apparently sensing their distress, but she did not release her grip on Rogue. She sent him a mental message, letting him know Rogue was with her should anyone start looking, and focused once more on the person who needed attention the most right now.

She held the girl close and continued to whisper words of encouragement in an attempt to comfort her, and even when Rogue's tears subsided she didn't let go. The tremors slowly ceased as well, and still she kept Rogue tucked safely against her.

Eventually the first rays of morning sun began to cast a soft light across the grounds. A few warm rays peeked through the tree tops, causing the woods around them to glow with early morning warmth. It was only then that she realized Rogue had dozed off. She had cried herself to sleep, and it was probably the deepest natural sleep the girl had had for a long time. Not wanting to wake her quite yet, Storm continued to hold her, and vowed to do so for as long as Rogue needed her.


	26. Intel Recieved

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own the X-Men.

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter! This takes place right after the last chapter, but I didn't want to tag this onto that one. The next chapter will be longer, I promise.

* * *

Logan watched from the doorway of Chuck's office as Rogue made her way up the stairs, presumably to her room or the bathroom. He hadn't missed how red her eyes were, or how she refused to look up at him in passing. He also didn't miss the dark circles under Ororos' eyes, or how the woman kept her gaze locked on Rogue's retreating form before disappearing into the office behind him. Something had definitely happened between the two, and if his guess was right than Rogue had finally had the breakdown she'd needed.

He was glad and a little bitter at the same time. He'd assumed when Rogue was ready to collapse, she would collapse on him, but apparently Storm had been in the right place at the right time. Once Stripes was out of sight he turned back into the office and closed the door behind him.

"She okay?" he asked, addressing Ororo.

Ororo didn't answer right away. She seemed to consider the question first. "I believe she will be with time."

"Kid has a lot to work through," he said, mostly to himself.

"Yes," Storm agreed.

Charles nodded as well, and silence elapsed for a moment before he spoke. "Did Fury have any new information?"

"SHIELD was able to track down some of the personnel who escaped," Storm answered. "They rescued the remaining mutants who had been transported before we arrived, and captured several key personnel. Including Brax. However, they are still looking for Doctor Kern, and a few others they have not been able to locate."

"This Kern is the one who..."

"Yes," Storm answered before he could finish. "According to Fury, Kern was the main scientist. And the one mostly responsible for the experimentation involving Rogue."

Logan felt a burst of anger rush through him. "Fury better hope I don't find him first."

"Did SHIELD recover any other information from the complex?" Charles asked. "Perhaps something in relation to Rogue specifically?"

Ororo glanced at Logan with an unreadable expression before she answered. "As Fury already informed us, their objective was to capture, catalog, and study mutants. Assumedly to develop specialized weapons using mutants, and to combat mutants. They had kept to what they defined as 'non-threatening' mutants, until Mystique told them about Rogue."

"And HYDRA just couldn't resist the temptation," Logan growled.

"Precisely. Their intent was to study her, perhaps in hopes of finding a way to weaponize her powers, and according to Dr. Kern's notes...to possibly create a clone, which they would have control over."

Logan's eyes narrowed, and his hands clinched into fists. "Up to their same ole' tricks. Think they'd learn after the first time."

Ororo made no comment about the anger radiating off him. "After they captured Rogue, and began to understand her powers, they apparently were not content with having her absorb only 'non-threatening' mutants. Which is why they captured Gambit and Ms. Marvel. Fury was also able to recover some video recordings," Ororo continued. "Some of which contains recordings of Rogue. He offered to give us copies if we wished to...see some of what she went through in more detail."

Logan felt his stomach twist into a knot at the thought. He already wanted to kill all the idiots who had touched Stripes, seeing that video would probably make him take a more active role in hunting down Kern.

"In respect of Rogue's privacy, I do not believe that will be necessary at the moment," Charles answered, sounding slightly weary of the thought.

Ororo nodded. "What steps do you wish us to take now, Charles?"

"For now," he began, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. "I believe we should focus on helping one of our own."


	27. Reason to Live

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

A/N: A longer chapter, as promised. This isn't my favorite chapter, but hopefully it worked out okay. We're getting very close to the end of the story now, which I'm kinda sad about. You guys have all been great! Thanks for taking such an interest in this fic. On a side note, there's a special visitor in this chapter that I think some of you might like...

* * *

It had been awhile since she'd gotten out of the med-lab, but she'd finally done it. Rogue glanced down at the rolled up diploma in her hand. She'd taken the exam she'd missed, and had passed. Now she had the diploma to prove it.

Jean sat next to her in the driver's seat of the van with a broad smile. Rogue couldn't for the life of her figure out why Jean was so happy. The only thing she could figure was that the red-head was just gloating over the fact Rogue had allowed her to drive her to the school and back.

She'd planned on walking on her own, but everyone had quickly objected to that idea. Apparently she wasn't 'healed up' enough in their opinion. Considering she could walk without limping, Rogue thought she was doing pretty well. With that idea knocked out of the water they'd started volunteering to drive her though. She hadn't wanted them to make a big deal out of it, and had wanted to just take Logan up on his offer. Unfortunately, Mr. McCoy had objected to that as well. Between the rough ride of a motorcycle, and the rough ride as a result of Logan's driving, he felt her ribs would be better off with something a little less bouncy.

Somehow Jean had won the debate, and now here she was. Sitting in a van with a smiling red-head. It wasn't as bad as Rogue had imagined it would be at least. The last month or so the older girl had actually been...tolerable. She seemed to actually make an effort not to get on Rogue's nerves, and had even stopped making condescending remarks she thought were 'helpful'.

The vivid flashbacks were coming less frequently now as well, which was also helpful. The Professor had told her he'd helped push them away, back where they belonged, and the more control she had over Carol the better. Some still lingered though, and fresher memories sometimes took their place instead.

At times she couldn't help but wonder what would happen when...no, she forcibly corrected herself... _if_ the Professor ever stopped working with her. She tried not to think about it, but that fear of abandonment still lurked under the surface, taunting her and reminding her of all the untrustworthy people she knew.

As they pulled up the driveway Rogue snapped out of her distracting thoughts and unbuckled her seat belt. "Thanks," she muttered, feeling a little awkward with the silence. "For driving me."

"Anytime." Jean parked the car and then turned in her seat before Rogue could escape. "I'm really proud of you, Rogue."

She bit back the reflexive retort of 'I don't need you to be proud of me', and just nodded instead. "Um, thanks. I guess."

"I don't just mean about graduating."

Rogue blinked, more than a little surprised and definitely uncomfortable. "Oh."

"I don't know if I could have..." A dark look crossed the red-head's face and she looked away for a second. "I don't know if I could have handled things as well as you have."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "You could." She wasn't even sure herself it was a compliment or an insult.

Jean's eyes snapped down to the cast over her wrist and hand. Rogue shifted uncomfortably, and tugged the sleeve of her coat down a little further. The movement seemed to snap Jean out of whatever was going on in her head.

"It's hot in here," Rogue said, interrupting whatever it was Jean had started to say. Though, with the coat on and the air condition now off, it really was getting stuffy. "We should go inside."

Jean smiled, though it wasn't as bright as before, and nodded before sliding out of the van. Rogue climbed out as well, but a little more slowly thanks to her still healing injuries. She couldn't decide if she was surprised or not to find Logan standing nearby waiting.

He spotted the rolled up paper in her hand and smirked. "Congrats, kid," he said as Jean walked around the vehicle.

"Thanks," she replied. She started to follow Jean towards the front entrance, but stopped when Logan spoke again.

"Hold on, Stripes."

She turned back towards him and frowned in confusion when he gave a sharp nod towards the garage. She followed behind him, still a little slower than usual, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw not one, but two motorcycles in the garage.

"When did you get a new bike?" she asked, her eyes roaming over the motorcycle in question. It didn't look brand new. In fact it looked a little warn, but it was almost identical to his except for a green flame-like streak down the side.

"It's not mine."

She looked over to find him smirking amusedly at her. She stared back, still confused, and watched with widening eyes as he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. She caught them with one hand and looked between him and the keys for a minute as what he was saying sunk in.

"It's...mine?" she finally managed to ask. The shock began to give way to a bubbling excitement.

"Yep," Logan confirmed. "I fixed it up for you. Runs better than mine now."

Rogue's eyes flickered from him, to the bike, to the keys and back with her mouth slightly agape. It might not be brand new, but as far as she was concerned it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And it was _hers_. Hers and no one else's. No one had ever done something like this for her before.

Without a second thought, or much thought at all really, she took two long strides and flung her arms around him. "Thank you," she exclaimed with barely contained excitement. The close proximity quickly started to set her nerves on edge, but she squeezed her eyes shut and forced down the panic. It was just Logan, she reminded herself, and she had on the coat.

Logan returned the hug, holding her tightly for a few seconds. "No problem, Stripes." He let her go, but kept one arm slung across her shoulders as they both turned to look at the motorcycle. She was surprisingly okay with it. "Besides, now when you're tryin' to escape Kitty's cooking you can work on your own bike instead of trying to steal mine."

She rolled her eyes, but barely tore her eyes from the motorcycle. "This is...great." She slipped from under his arm and walked up to the bike, letting her hand ghost across the metal. She was half-way on it, with the key inching towards the ignition, when he chuckled.

"Probably not a good idea right now, Stripes," he pointed out.

She glanced at her broken wrist and sighed in defeat. Unfortunately, he was right. She wouldn't be able to really enjoy it with a broken wrist and still-healing ribs. Not to mention Mr. McCoy would probably have a fit and tie her to a bed in the med-lab.

She inched her way off the bike, but refused to walk away.

"It'll still be here later," Logan assured her. "When you're all healed up we'll go for a ride."

She forced herself to walk away, and smiled faintly at Logan. She wasn't really used to this kind of thing. "Thanks, Logan. Really."

He shrugged and turned to walk with her to the mansion. "I made a promise."

"What?" she asked, giving him a confused look.

He didn't attempt to explain further, but she vowed to get it out of him eventually. As they approached the front door she heard him growl lightly, and looked up to find a Cajun swamp rat leaning back against the railing, his arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.

"Coat looks good on you, chere," he said, his eyes taking in the trench coat she wore almost constantly nowadays. "Could almost match Remy's."

"What are you doin' here?" she asked with a good dose of irritation to make her point, and also to distract herself from the memories that instantly flashed through her mind's eye at the sight of him. The fact Logan wasn't attempting to skin him alive surprised her as well.

"Takin' yer advice. Lookin' into a new line of work."

She paused at the foot of the steps, and Logan walked past her and Gambit while muttering something about swamp rats and bad ideas. Once by the door he turned, his glare focused entirely on Gambit, but didn't make a move to chase him away.

"You're joinin' the X-Men?" she asked. The day was just full of surprises apparently.

"Gonna give it a test run," Gambit answered ambiguously. "That alright with you, chere?"

She bristled at the question, but then realized she wasn't sure if he'd asked jokingly, or if he was actually asking genuinely. "Whatever," she settled on saying before walking up the steps to join Logan.

She had many more questions, but wasn't in the mood to ask. Seeing him again had brought back memories that she wanted to ignore anyway. It had turned into such a good day that she didn't want to ruin it. So she glanced back at the swamp rat, who was still watching her every move, and then went inside with Logan right behind her.

As soon as she stepped foot inside the mansion, however, she stopped in surprise yet again. A banner hung from the ceiling with the word, 'Congratulations' written on it in big bright letters. There was confetti all over the place, and as soon as she realized what was going on she considered ramming her head against the nearest wall.

Logan stood beside her looking far-too-pleased with the whole thing. "Did ya really think they were just gonna let it go?"

She shot him a glare, which he only smirked at. As if on cue, a hoard of far-too-happy people emerged from the kitchen. The next thing she knew people were talking all around her and she was being pulled into the dining room.

"I told you we'd have a big party!" Kitty exclaimed happily as she was ushered into a room filled with food and more smiling people.

She was at least glad to see the party wasn't just for her. Kitty and Kurt's names were written on posters hanging around the room as well. After a while the discomfort eased, and Rogue found herself relaxing a little. Logan was always in eyesight, as if offering her silent support and reminding her that she wasn't the only one who hated social gatherings. About half-way through a hand rested gently on her shoulder, and she looked up to find Storm smiling at her warmly. Another silent supporter, one who she'd always be grateful for even if she wasn't sure how to say so out loud.

Apparently hugs weren't a magical cure. That night when Storm had held and let her cry had been...nice though. Since then she sometimes set up in bed at night and wrapped her arms around herself to try and capture the feeling again.

One night, Kitty had actually woken up and found her like that. She'd been lost in thought, or maybe some kind of waking nightmare, and hadn't even noticed when Kitty had gotten out of bed. What she _had_ noticed was a body suddenly next to her.

She'd jerked away, wincing when it aggravated her ribs, and had nearly fallen off the bed. Kitty had just looked at her sadly before sitting back against the pillows next to her without a word. Words weren't exactly something she'd been capable of at the time. Breathing was required for that. So she had settled back again, unable to look at her friend out of embarrassment, and wrapped her arms around her torso in an attempt to take up as little room as possible and avoid touching Kitty.

Kitty hadn't moved though. She'd just sat there, half-asleep, as Rogue stared ahead unseeingly. At some point Kitty's head wound up on her shoulder, and soon after that the other girl was snoring softly. After the initial shock Rogue had relaxed and let her friend sleep. It wasn't a hug, it wasn't Storm letting her cry into her shoulder, but it was weirdly comforting all the same. She'd eventually dozed off, and a couple of hours later she'd slid out from under Kitty's head and carefully eased her down onto the bed so she could finish sleeping.

She'd found her way into the garage after that and had simply watched Logan working on his bike. He didn't comment on her sudden appearance, or about how she sat in a corner with her eyes fixed on the light hanging over him. He'd just given her space and somehow that had been just as comforting. Maybe even more comforting.

Ever since then it had become almost a ritual to either find Logan, or he find her, in the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep. She didn't know how to thank him, or Kitty, Storm, or the Professor. She just didn't know how these things worked, and the thought of putting her feelings into words was a little distressing anyway.

It wasn't until the celebration was winding down that Gambit, and oddly enough Colossus as well, decided to come inside and the Professor announced the addition of two new 'allies'. A ripple went through the gathering, except for the four older adults, but everyone tried to ignore the awkwardness and keep their spirits high.

By the end of the night Kitty and Scott were distracted with Colossus while Kurt and most of the others decided on watching a movie. She'd turned down the movie, and was intent on heading to bed. Mostly to get away from all the people. Sessions with the Professor had been helping, but being too close to people still made her feel uneasy most of the time.

She was at the base of the stairs, just about free, when a familiar southern drawl stopped her.

"Good to see you up and about, chere," Gambit said from where he was suddenly leaning a hip against the stair rail. "Last I saw you weren't lookin' so good."

She didn't _feel_ like she looked all that great now. The bruises had mostly faded, but some of the cuts were slower to heal. She had a cast and held herself stiffly at times thanks to her sore ribs. She felt like a mess, inside and out.

"Last I saw Colossus had you thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes," she drawled in return, then looked him over suspiciously. "What do ya want, swamp rat?"

"Thought I'd say hello."

"You said that already."

Gambit's crooked smile didn't falter. "Thought I'd say thanks too. For helping Remy back in that dungeon of despair."

Rogue arched an eyebrow at 'dungeon of despair'. It was pretty accurate actually. "You don't have to thank me," she muttered.

"Aren't that many people you can trust to have your back, chere. You gotta stick with the ones you can."

Her eyes automatically flickered to the adjoining room, where she could hear Storm and Mr. McCoy laughing about something or another. Logan stood just inside, his back to the foyer, but Rogue knew he was listening and standing by just in case. Everyone she trusted was currently in this house. Everything that mattered to her was here. Without her friends she had nothing to live for, but they'd given her that.

"Yeah," she replied. "I know."

"Glad Remy's stickin' around?"

She rolled her eyes at his cocky smile. "I haven't decided yet." With that she made her way upstairs and pointedly ignored the pair of eyes that followed her.


	28. Epilogue

Disclaimer: As I've said before, I don't own the X-Men.

A/N: Well, here it is. The final chapter. I've put off posting this because I'm kinda sad to see this story end. I've enjoyed writing it, and reading all of your great reviews and comments. So thank you very, very much for all the reviews/alerts/favorites! I'm considering writing another fic set in this universe, but I'm not entirely sure yet. Let me know if you guys would be interested. Hopefully this won't be my last story in this fandom either way. Again, thank you for sticking around and reading! I hope you like this last chapter.

* * *

Rogue stared at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser as she reached up and let her fingers graze over the numbers branded into the back of her neck. 56399. Some days she could swear she still felt her skin burn. With a shake of her head she picked up her gloves and pulled them on one at time. A patch of pinker, newer skin caught her eye on the palm of her first hand. And a thin pale scar twisted its way around her other hand. Once both gloves were securely on the evidence of what had happened six months ago was hidden from sight. Just the way she liked it.

She grabbed the brown trench coat off her bed and pulled it on as well. Even after six months, countless sessions with the Professor, and a few talks with Logan she still felt more comfortable with the added layer of protection. She was getting better though.

She _was_.

She had to be, because she couldn't live the rest of her life with the most painful moments of her life constantly hanging over her.

' _One day at a time_ ,' Logan had said a few months ago.

Today she was going to take the next step. She'd prepared for it without letting any know. The Professor was right though. This was her life, not Carol's, and she had to live it. She couldn't let Carol dictate the way her life went.

 _'I can do it_ ,' she told herself.

With a deep breath she headed out of her and Kitty's room and towards the elevator.

* * *

"Alright, gonna work on agility and defense today," Logan announced from the tower overlooking the Danger Room. Summers, Jean, Kurt, Kitty, and Gambit stood waiting for the simulation to begin. "Try to keep up, Gumbo," he added. The idiot cajun gave a two fingered wave with his overly cocky smile.

He looked down at the control panel, but before he could begin the simulation Kurt's startled voice came over the comm. "Rogue?"

Logan looked up, and sure enough Rogue was standing in the entrance of the Danger Room, decked out in full uniform, plus the long coat she'd gotten into the habit of wearing. A crooked, proud smile tugged at his lips at the sight.

Rogue hadn't been comfortable using her powers the last several months, and hadn't taken part in any simulations. It had been unanimously agreed that none of them would push her into it either. They weren't even sure of the extent of the powers she'd absorbed from Ms. Marvel.

But now she seemed ready to give it a try.

Everyone had seemed uncertain if she'd ever be able to use her powers again, but he'd known she would get through it. She was Rogue. She'd needed time, which she more than deserved, but he knew Stripes. Surrendering wasn't in her blood. More than that though, he knew she wouldn't let her friends go off and risk their lives without her nearby to save their idiotic butts.

"Welcome to the party, Stripes," he said as the others watched her a little uncertainly.

She smirked up at him. She'd gotten back herself the last couple of months, and he was glad to see the old Rogue smirk was still full of spirit.

" _You're not broken, Stripes_ ," he'd told her a few months back after yet again finding her in the kitchen in the middle of the night. " _A little bent out of shape, but not broken_."

Looking at her now, he knew she was finally starting to believe him.

* * *

Rogue looked at the others as they stared back at her.

"Welcome to the party, Stripes."

She looked up at the window above them, where Logan was watching them, and smirked back in return. She'd half-expected someone to try and stop her, but was glad to see that Logan was at least on her side and confident in her. She'd prove herself to the others if necessary.

And prove to herself that she could still do this as well.

She walked further into the room and nearly rolled her eyes when Kitty started bouncing excitedly.

Scott stepped up next to her as the others got ready to start. "Are you sure you're ready for this, Rogue?" he asked quietly.

She tugged one of her gloves on a little more. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," she answered, sounding far more confident than she actually felt.

The simulation began a second later before Scott could reply, and soon they were all separated by the insane obstacles Logan had cooked up. She dodged projectiles. Climbed a chain and flipped off to avoid an electrical charge. The electric pulse grazed her leg as she flipped backwards, and the surge of power sent her back to a place she never wanted to go back to. For a moment she imagined it was Creeps with his taser rod.

With a scowl she pushed the thought as far away as it would go. She had to focus on the present, not the past. And there was no way she was going to let Creeps continue to get in her way. She dropped to the ground to avoid more projectiles, and looked up just in time to see a large cylindrical metal beam flying towards Jean.

The red-head had her back turned, focused entirely on keeping a fire at bay. Rogue didn't give it a second's thought. Instincts took over. She flew into the air and intercepted the beam. It pushed against her chest as she tried to get a good grip on it, but finally it slowed to stop above the others' heads. She held it there, exerting almost no energy at all. Her heart raced, but not from the effort of keeping the large beam from moving. A buzzing energy washed over her.

It felt _good_.

With one forceful shove Rogue lifted the beam above her head. Below her everyone seemed to stop and stare, but she ignored them. She pushed the beam away and sent it flying towards the opposite wall, where it blinked out of existence just as the simulation ended.

Her coat billowed around her as she lowered herself back to the ground. She simply smirked at the expressions staring back at her, not really sure how else to respond. They were impressed, but mostly she thought they looked happy. As if to confirm her suspicious, Kurt disappeared and then reappeared right in front of her with a broad grin.

"Welcome back, schwester," he said.

She sidestepped out of the hug he nearly subjected her to, but mostly just to make him laugh. Once the surprise and excitement finally died down, they all headed out of the room to grab showers before lunch. Remy winked at her as they left the room together.

She lagged behind once she spotted Logan in the hallway though. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kitty looking around for her, but once the other girl spotted Logan she grabbed Gambit's arm and started dragging him closer to the group as they made their way down the hall. Rogue had to admit that Kitty could sometimes be more perceptive than they usually gave her credit for.

"So?" she asked, stopping in front of Logan.

"So what?"

She wasn't sure why his opinion mattered, but for whatever reason it did. Her confidence slipped a fraction, but she tried not to let it show. "What did ya think?"

Logan gave her the same look he'd given her when she'd arrived for the session earlier. It was similar to the one he'd given her when she'd crashed his motorcycle into a convenience store to save his skin. It looked a lot like he was actually proud of her.

"Nothin' to surprise me with, Stripes," he said with a shrug. "I always knew you'd kick butt when you wanted to."

A smile tugged at her lips, but she went with rolling her eyes instead. "Is that supposed to be some kind of inspirational speech?"

"Nope. Just a fact." He started walking down the hall, and she fell into step next to him. "Wanna go for a ride?"

She didn't bother answering directly. She hadn't turned down taking her motorcycle out yet. "Where are we goin'?"

"We'll find out when we get there."

Rogue nodded at the answer. It kinda reminded her of her life lately, and she wasn't sure if he'd meant the double meaning or not. The last year had been a hard one. One filled with shocks and nightmares and the making of more nightmares. She'd lived through it though. She had survived even though she'd had no idea what she was doing, or how the future would work out. At one point she hadn't even been sure she would have a future at all. She'd found her path in the end though.

She still had no idea where life would take her now. She wouldn't delude herself with thoughts of a smooth future with no twists or bumps in the road, and she knew the dark thoughts that still kept her up at night wouldn't just go away, but at least she knew there were people she could trust to have her back. Whatever was going to happen would happen.

They'd figure out how to deal with the future when they got there.


End file.
